


Of Queens and Witches

by red_streaks



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based on a Tumblr Post, F/F, alice in gayland, all your faves are here, also very few men??? that's a plus, and they're all gay, gayderella, i dont think i can specify that enough, the little gay mermaid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3285752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_streaks/pseuds/red_streaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she first kissed Daniel, a lilac mark had appeared just beside her bellybutton. She found it when she was bathing and Maid Lisa had wept because she thought Mother would find it and connect the dots. </p><p>Instead, she tore his heart out of his chest and made the mark disappear.</p><p>She knows without a doubt that the lilac mark, a little incomplete swirl that looked like it was hastily drawn and quickly forgotten, was magic, pure and good. </p><p>Regina had thought she’d never see a mark like that in her life again, but when she rises the morning she’s to meet the Queen in waiting, she spots it. </p><p>Enchanted Forest AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. long live the lies we told

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this was originally posted like in February, and my plans for this story have stayed the same but my writing hasn't so I went back and kinda changed it (I dunno if I'm allowed to do that but oh well) and so this is a new chapter! 
> 
> Also, this was inspired by mishka47's gorgeous manip "Queen Emma was the peace in the Dark Kingdom; and Queen Regina was the burning rage protecting her." (http://mishka47.tumblr.com/post/108187676782/queen-emma-was-the-peace-in-the-dark-kingdom-and) (it's beautiful go check it out) Thanks to mishka47 for letting me use her beautiful work! 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading <3

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Th-_

 

Her hand flexes before she can finish counting and her breath stutters hotly against her trembling lips when purple sparks erupt. She can feel her heartbeat in her fingertips, just where the light is flickering lowly and illuminating her face under the covers. There's a million shades of purple in her fingertips for two brief seconds before the light dies out quickly. 

 

She’s thrown into the darkness again and left with her hands thrumming slightly, the skin on her wrists searing hotly. Licking her lips, she tries again-

 

_One_

 

_Tw-_

 

This time, she feels the tug at the very back of her heart and when her fingers flex and her heart thunders on, the light turns a darker shade and a sharp smell fills the air- the tell tell sign of magic. Her eyes, illuminated brightly, grow and grow in surprise as she counts to five and the light stays put. 

 

The sound of heels hitting the ground hard resonates throughout the empty stone halls and the light flickers along with her stuttering heart.

 

Her hand, flat and hovering dangerously close to her nose, curls into a fist and she watches with a sinking stomach how the swirls of light disappear through her silk covers and disintegrate in the chilly morning air. 

 

Her dark curls fall over the edge of the bed, tresses almost touching the floor with it’s length and it’s the only part of her that the cold air touches. She curls into herself, lip between her teeth as she waits for the knock on her door. 

 

Heels echo more loudly now and she shuts her eyes, (sees gold and purple and freedom) and pretends to be asleep underneath the covers. The sharp smell of sulfur still clings to the air, to her hair, to her finger tips and the brunette airs out the sheets above her in an attempt to disperse the smell of magic. 

 

Four successive knocks are ignored by the brunette, burrowing deeper into the bed as she holds a trembling tanned hand in front of her nose to continue the light show.

 

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Three_

 

Nothing. 

 

“Regina,” a sweet voice whispers outside of the door and the girl springs up in bed, lights forgotten. “Let me in.”

 

Mother doesn’t ask to be let in, Mother doesn’t bother knocking. Regina should have known the heels were too soft to be Mother’s, too fast and urgent. 

 

_(A lady never runs, Regina. People run_ _to_ _, or_ _from_ _us.)_

 

She hisses when her bare feet touch cold stone, but hurries to unlock the door. In comes Maid Lisa, stumbling with desperation and something that looks dangerously like hope brimming her red cheeks. 

 

“Regina,” she whispers again, almost scared. Maid Lisa, round and short and impossibly sweet to bear, looks around the room and locks the door behind her. “Regina, the _King_ -“

 

There’s a loud wail coming from one of the rooms that makes both girls jump. The maid swallows uncomfortably and runs the back of her hand across a sweaty forehead.

 

Regina’s stomach plummets and her fingers twitch to the beat of her heart when the walls shake and she hears Mother scream. 

 

“The King,” Maid Lisa continues, thoroughly frightened now and clinging to Regina’s cold hands, “is _dead_.”

 

Her hands twitch inside of Maid Lisa’s and the back of her heart tugs painfully familiar. 

 

The walls around her shake harder and the maid looks like she’s two seconds away from fainting on her feet. Another scream is heard and a violent shake nearly topple both girls from their feet, clinging desperately to each other. 

 

Inside Regina’s heart, things are finally still. 

 

She can’t do much but hold her breath and hope she doesn’t erupt in a purple light show and hysterical laughter. 

 

The King, dead. 

 

Slowly, so slowly Maid Lisa grows agitated as the walls continue shaking and Regina’s entire world shakes with them, a smile spills over her cheeks and she lets one short breath cross her parted lips. 

 

The King, _gone_.

 

Maid Lisa shakes her head and swallows roughly, her palms sweaty now and burning against Regina’s frozen skin.

 

“And his successor,” the maid swallows roughly again and Regina wants to snap or slap her across the face just so she’d speak. The intensity of her thoughts startle Regina, but she doesn’t dwell on it because doing so would mean she’d acknowledge the perverse pleasure that climbed up her spine when her brain registered _dead_.

 

Good as gone. 

 

Maid Lisa tightens her hands around Regina’s and hazel eyes dart to the right as she leans in and whispers, “His successor is a _woman_.”

 

Her magic, barely contained before and on the brink of stumbling over her fingertips, spills forward now and makes Maid Lisa yelp in pain as it shocks through both women’s hands. Regina doesn’t notice the maid taking a step back or letting go of her hands, she merely focuses on the way the sound of metal hitting stone resonates through the wall as Mother rages on. 

 

A hopeful gleam dances in her dark eyes, her full brows rising in excitement.

 

“And Mother, she wouldn’t…she would _never_ -“ She whispers back, hair falling into her wet lips as she shakes her head, suddenly feeling lighter.

 

“She wouldn’t, she wouldn’t,” the maid mumbles, looking down at her hands and rubbing slightly. 

 

Regina’s hands strain against the cold and twitch with the effort to keep her magic hidden and away from Mother. She curls her hands into tight balls and digs her nails until her hands are warm and she can smile a little less dangerously at her maid. 

 

The heavy girl smiles back encouragingly and takes a step forward to envelop her in a hug, her previous surprise at being shocked forgotten. 

 

“You’re staying,” Lisa says and Regina’s heart sings with something better than the maid’s words. 

 

She has a dead fiancee, and although the house is shaking with Mother’s magic and Regina’s trembling with fear, she has a weapon she can use. 

 

Regina has _magic_.

 

*

 

_Idiot._

 

The old waif _had_ to keel over and die, just as the wedding had been finalized, just as the crown had been almost fastened upon the girl’s head. The old scullery maid probably already alerted her daughter of the _fabulous_ news. 

 

Cora could already tell the mood she’d find the girl in after figuring out she’d been ripped from the crown; the thought made her lash out and fling the next servant from his feet, her rage boiling her blood and making it spill in the form of magic. The servant’s head hits the corner of Henry’s desk sharply and the old coward rises from his chair to peer over the wood.

 

“ _Amor_ ,” Henry starts, shifting in his feet as the servant groans pathetically. He doesn’t tend to the servant, knowing full well that she’ll send him flying again if Henry shows any inclination of _concern_ towards the help.

 

“A woman, no- a girl! A _girl_ , Henry!” Cora screams, her magic erupting from her in bursts, sending objects flying thought the study. Her eyes zero in on the grumbling servant, blood pooling and staining a wooden leg. 

 

She walks forward, still addressing her husband as if he’ll respond to her raging words. 

 

“Who _is_ she? Surely, she can’t be-“ The servant rolls over, delirious with the pain and Cora snaps her fingers impatiently, suspending the boy in the air and making him hover just above the desk. Henry looks away uneasily. “She _can’t_ be-“

 

The servant’s eyes flutter open and she catches a glimpse of panicked eyes, quickly filling with tears as he notices his position. With one lazy wave of her hand, and a dampening smile, Cora snaps the servant’s neck and he falls limply to the floor. 

 

She stalks from the room, barely glancing at her sagging husband before she’s throwing doors open and letting her magic fill the halls.

 

She had been _oh so close_ to becoming queen. _Regina_ , she shakes her head, her magic propelling her forward in her rage, _Regina_ had been so close to becoming queen and the oaf had to have a _weak_ heart, after years of playing her cards _right_.

 

Her upper lip curls in distaste as she thinks of the tricks played on the dead King, on his insipid daughter and her wayward prince. Snow White hadn’t been that much younger than Regina when they met, one perfectly executed spill of Snow’s drink to Regina’s pale party dress and the younger woman had been smitten, apologizing profusely and taking her to the back for a change of clothes. 

 

Six years back, Cora had made sure Regina attended the marriage of Snow White, barely out of age, and her shepherd of a prince, made sure she made an impression on not only the King himself, but on his insipid daughter and her prince.

 

No, Snow hadn’t been that much younger, but she had a charming prince while all Regina had was an inadequate lover and a furious Mother. So Cora saw her opportunity, took it by it’s eager hands and presented Regina to Snow. 

 

The rest had been simply divine, the way the King had gleamed in appreciation at the easy friendship between the two girls, the way Snow invited Regina to more and more balls, and the delicious way the family took it in them to love Regina. It was her daughter who first learned about Snow’s pregnancy, not Prince David or King Leo, it was _Regina_. 

 

Soon, all Regina had to do, at Cora’s bidding of course, was say one simple word that would put the crown at her head and the kingdom at her feet. 

 

_Yes._

 

But the girl was _stupid_ , much like her father had been in trying to reassure her she wouldn't have to marry and she did-

 

Foolish, _foolish_ things that pushed Cora’s hand far too deep into the boy’s chest and Snow White’s perfect life. With both of them finally gone, after years of further manipulation Cora could have saved if Regina hadn’t been selfishly mourning, Regina was to marry a daughterless King.

 

And then the King decided to _die_. 

 

Absolutely unacceptable. 

 

“Regina,” her voice sounded sharper than necessary in the stone hall, “get dressed, _now_.”


	2. pure and good, let the light shine through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!
> 
> <3 <3

“No.”

 

“Your Majesty-“

 

“ _No_ ,” the young woman traces the pattern of the throne’s arm rest, rigid and metal and _way_ too uncomfortable to sit in. Her tongue darts out to lick thin lips but, remembering the red lavishly painting her lips, she rolls her eyes and flicks her tongue against the corner of her mouth instead.

 

Two thick men stand before her, balding and with protruding bellies. Her hands curls in disgust and her magic pools at the base of her spine with each word they speak.

 

“We imagine this must be a startling change, sweetheart. Surely a companion throughout this… _ordeal_ could greatly relieve the responsibilities.” The oldest of the two, and the thickest, clasps his hands behind his back and smiles placatingly up at the rigid Queen to be, his yellow teeth making her fingers twitch.

 

One last failed attempt to not lick her lips and, with her magic swirling dangerously up her spine, the young girl stands from her throne. 

 

“I believe I made myself clear,” the two men flinch as she descends a step. 

 

“I do not wish to _marry_ ,” she lowers another step and throws her long trail behind, the fabric hitting the floor heavily. “I do not wish for a _companion_ and I do not _care_ who the King was to marry before he _died_.”

 

She descends the last three steps and straightens out as much as she can, her magic flaring up to her neck and making it impossible for her to hunch. The two men, Baron Yones or Stone, she’s not so sure, and Baron Chris, Triss, whichever, lick their lips nervously and take a small step back.

 

“I understand, Your Majesty, but-“ 

 

“ _Enough_ ,” the girl nearly shouts. She takes a a shuddering breath and releases it through her nose slowly, pressing her thumb to her pinky behind her back. “Enough,” she repeats more calmly. 

 

Both men look at each other for a brief second and then back to the her. She can see the hesitation in their eyes and in the way they swallow in unison. 

 

“You are _new_ here,” the youngest and bravest of two starts, his hair still intact though receding quickly. “And we are merely attempting, Your Majesty, to make your reign less…stressing on your young mind.”

 

“I will not manage my kingdom with a stranger from a foreign land,” is the only thing the Queen allows for the men to know through gritted teeth. “I will not be a Queen _and_ a wife. _That_ would be nearly too much.”

 

In truth, she doesn’t know the first thing about ruling a kingdom, and the three inhabitants breathing deeply in the room know so. But the girl is determined not to show this, and she’s certain that she’s here, however strangely she landed in this land, for a reason far more important than to marry. 

 

The thought makes her palms sweat hotly and her cheeks tint madly. The two men are still staring at her with patronizing but fearful eyes and the girl takes this as a point towards her favor.

 

With a final nod, (she imagines powerful queens do this, right?) she retreats to her throne and allows the fabric to pool at her feet, the white fabric covering the marks wrapped around her ankles nicely. 

 

The two men bow dramatically and she has half a mind to stand up and bow back but she sees a figure shake their head oh so slightly at the far back of the room. She nods back and stares forward with half lidded eyes as the men leave the room quietly. 

 

She hasn’t befriended many people in the castle yet, certainly not anybody above a servant’s post, and she’s feeling the heavy burden of that this second. She needs to make connections with the council, not send them with their tails behind their legs at every other interaction they have. 

 

She _is_ new here, she knows this, but she can’t help making enemies with anybody who tries reminding her she doesn’t know what the hell she’s doing. 

 

“Well done,” an accented voice comes from the back of the room and the Queen tries to make out the face hidden by the shadows. “You need to be careful, though.”

 

“Tiana,” the Queen sighs, shifting in the uncomfortable chair. 

 

“Emma,” Tiana mocks, rising her voice in pitch and stepping out of the shadows. “You can’t fight everybody in this castle. Although I’m sure you’ll try.” She murmurs the last part and shakes her dark head of hair. 

 

Emma stands from the damned chair and adjusts the sleeves of her heavy gown. 

 

“I can beat every one of them, too.” She smirks and meets the dark girl in the middle of the room. Tiana smells like ginger and a spice Emma doesn’t quite yet recognize from this land. 

 

“Emma,” Tiana grows serious at the Queen’s easy smile, and grasps her wrist, squeezing urgently. “You need to be _careful_.”

 

She brings Emma’s wrist up between them and points with her chin. The blonde looks down and sees the grey marks adorning her wrist peeking from the gown’s sleeve. Tiana gives her a long look as she hastily yanks her arm free, her face paling.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She drags her sleeve down to her knuckles and meets Tiana’s dark eyes head-on.

 

“You think I don’t hear things in the kitchens? Everybody thinks the new Queen has somethin’ wrong with her,” she thins her lips out. “I’m just trying to warn you.” 

 

“It’s nothi-“

 

“It’s _magic_ , is what it is.” Tiana nods solemnly and thins her lips. “People are talking cause you’re new, but if they learn about this,” she points to her wrists, “they’ll talk for a whole other reason.”

 

Emma’s gaze never leaves Tiana’s as she speaks; her dark eyes are clear and without judgement. Still, the Queen breathes through her nose and rises to her fullest height. 

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

*

 

Regina knows very little about the King’s granddaughter. It doesn’t escape her weary mind that the King was old enough to have a daughter (although she can’t think about Snow now, can’t can’t can’t) and a granddaughter old enough to rule and marry. 

 

It doesn’t escape Regina’s mind but it does Mother’s. 

 

“They say she’s from another land, which will work to your advantage, dear. Foreigners are so easy to fool.” Mother holds up a laced pink dress and frowns down on it. Regina sits idly by the bed. “Of course, once you’re married, you mustn’t tell her this.”

 

Mother thinks it’s a given that this new Queen will want to marry another woman so early in her reign, so early in her life. Regina shudders at the thought of marrying and she thinks of Rocinante _fast fast fast_ underneath her as she rides to freedom. 

 

“The coronation will be in a month and we _must_ work quickly. You will see her tomorrow night, after a quick dinner with Baron Yones.”

 

Regina’s mind snaps to attention so slowly that Mother grabs her chin with cold fingers and forces her to meet her eyes. 

 

“So quickly?” Regina says because her mind is still hazy after imagining what it’d be like to come home with Rocinante weary after a long ride, Daniel waiting by the door with-

 

It’s the wrong thing to say because cold fingers tighten around her chin. 

 

“ _Yes_ , child. We wouldn’t want the Queen to find a better suitor.” Mother says _better_ with a twisted mouth, as if the thought of finding someone better than her daughter is both an insult and oddly enough, entirely possible. 

 

It’s not Mother’s fingers tightening around her chin, it’s her magic taking ahold of Regina, seeping under her skin and making everything darker and duller. Regina hisses at the contact and forces her fingers to stop twitching with the need to _protect_. 

 

Mother notices and her eyes clear; her magic retreats and her face morphs into something sweet and fake. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling.” 

 

Regina smiles against her will, two heavy strings pulling the corner of her mouth upwards in order to reassure Mother. 

 

“I like the blue best, don’t you think? It does not make your skin look darker than it should.” Mother leaves her sitting on the bed and waves a hand around. “Lovely, isn’t it?”

 

Regina finds herself enveloped in Mother’s magic, the putrid smell stinging her eyes and the back of her throat. She sees a pale blue dress hugging her waist tightly in the mirror before her, and Mother’s proud gleam.

 

“Lovely,” Regina repeats, thinking of horses and barns and three hundred different shades of purple underneath her covers.

 

*

 

Emma steals down to the kitchens in the middle of the night, partly because she’s hungry, but mainly because she’s lonely. 

 

A couple of weeks in the King’s castle (hers, she should start calling it _hers_ ) and she’s still as disconnected from this land as she was from her previous one. The food is better, and her conditions are _far_ better, but one thing remains consistent, it seems, when it come’s to Emma’s life. 

 

She’s alone.

 

Baron Yones would smile widely and shake his head as if Emma had made a joke. “That’s what a husband is for, sweetheart.”

 

Emma would kick him in the shin if a billion pound crown weren’t about to be placed on her head. 

 

“Mercy, have mercy,” she whispers as she tiptoes to the kitchen, her sleeping gown, dark blue and heavy enough that she’s working up a sweat, sweeps dramatical across the floor. 

 

There’s nobody in the kitchens save for the high stack of bread rolls left over night, warming by the slow fire. She’s disappointed but skips towards the rolls anyways, stuffing three down her gown before she remembers this is her _home_. Slowing down, she pops one in her mouth and heats three more in her open palm, her magic coming to her after a couple of tries. 

 

She’s on her third roll when someone clears their throat from the doorway. 

 

“Your Majesty,” comes the dry voice. “I wasn’t expecting you here.”

 

She tugs her sleeves over her thumb and swallows roughly.

 

“Yones. Is there a reason you’re following me?” Her spine is tight with suspicion and she’s not sure if it’s the rolls she ate or her gut telling her she should be wary. 

 

“No reason.” He takes a step forward and takes a roll in his hand. “I was merely supervising the grounds today.”

 

She knows absolutely nothing about who is supposed to be supervising or if he’s even in the position to do so, but she doesn’t want to seem entirely out to place (even if her lie detector is pinging madly) so she puts the last roll down and nods. 

 

“Very well. I was just going upstairs. Goodnight, Baron.”

 

The Baron doesn’t so much as jumps in front of her, he snatches her arm and tugs a little so she can face him. Without meeting his eye, Emma stares at his hand coldly, and waits.

 

A minute passes and when Emma doesn’t move or meet his eye, the Baron drops her arm and has the decency to look embarrassed. 

 

“ _Never_ ,” she says lowly, “touch me again.”

 

She walks out without a second glance and isn’t at all surprised when he follows.

 

“Your Majesty,” he says and she’s starting to understand Tiana’s words of caution. “It has come to my attention just today that there’s a guest very willing to see you. He’s was a prominent Prince of a sister kingdom long ago, knew the King quite well.”

 

She stalks towards the nearest entry and tries avoiding his words, but she knows this day would come all too quickly. The need to talk and socialize with the departed King’s friends, the need to include herself amongst the royals. 

 

“It’ll just be a quick visit,” the Baron hedges and Emma nearly turns around and yells at him for being so persistently annoying. 

 

_You can’t fight everybody in this castle._

 

“Watch me,” she murmurs under her breath, but sighs. Tiana’s words ring in her ears as the Baron continues talking. 

 

“What was that, Your Majesty?”

 

“I said very well, Baron. Do not make me repeat myself.” His eyes grow wide and he stutters for a brief second. “Now, _goodnight_.”

 

He nods so fiercely his hair moves oddly out of place and she turns around to find her room, already regretting her decision. 

 

*

 

When she first kissed Daniel, a lilac mark had appeared just beside her bellybutton. She found it when she was bathing and Maid Lisa had wept because she thought Mother would find it and connect the dots. 

 

Instead, she tore his heart out of his chest and made the lilac mark disappear. 

 

_True love_ , Daddy had said, _is the most powerful magic of all. It can transcend any realm and break any curse, so long as it’s pure and good._

 

She knows without a doubt that the lilac mark, a little incomplete swirl that looked like it was hastily drawn and quickly forgotten, was magic, pure and good. 

 

Regina had thought she’d never see a mark like that in her life again, but when she rises the morning she’s to meet the Queen in waiting, she spots it. 

 

It sits on her shoulder, a swirl that rests against her bone and travels down her back. Her world tilts and she thinks of the lilac swirl, pure and heavenly and entirely Daniel, and she almost breaks. 

 

Instead, she tries making it disappear because she hasn’t kissed anybody and she’s not in love, nor will she ever be. She calls forward her magic with a trembling hand and when it glows purple, the mark on her shoulder brightens and expands over her dark skin. 

 

Her magic stops abruptly and the mark stops growing. She can feel her heart beating beating beating against her ribcage, one rapid beat at a time. 

 

Not True Love, then, as it had been with Daniel, but magic nonetheless. 

 

_Pure and good._

 

She hides the mark behind her dress and smiles brittlely at Mother when she calls her beautiful. 

 

_Pure_ , she repeats, even as her magic flares up at Mother’s touch.

 

_Good_ , she reminds herself as they make their way to the castle, even as she wants the new Queen as dead as the King. 

 

_Pure and good_ , she burns on her tongue and quells her magic from hurting Mother, sitting next to Daddy peacefully.

 

The doors open for them and Regina’s never felt as powerless as she does now. 

 

*

 

Emma knows as soon as the doors open that the Prince was no old friend of the King’s. The man enters first, hunched and smiling nervously at the guards. He looks as unfamiliar with the castle as Emma is.

 

This is her first warning. 

 

A woman enters next, tall and smug and Emma dislikes her instantly. She strides into the room and along with her comes an awful smell- bitter dark menacing- Emma’s dizzy with the power she exudes. 

 

This is her second warning. 

 

_She_ enters next, tan and unsmiling and brilliantly beautiful. Her dress is blue and it makes her skin look warm; it reminds Emma of the kitchens after a long day of cooking and sweating. She looks uncomfortable but wears the feeling well, her shoulders are drawn back, her chin is thrown forward and her eyebrows are raised haughtily over dark eyes, as if to say, 

 

_I’m uncomfortable and I want you all to take notice._

 

All of Emma’s warnings go out the window. 

 

She rises when the three of them bow and when Baron Yones takes the man aside, she knows this was the woman’s doing. Emma focuses on the way the girl looks forward and shows no emotion on her face, on the way the dress hugs her figure and how the mother looks like she’ll eat Emma alive. 

 

Her eyes flick to Baron Yones’, but the coward man won’t meet her eyes.

 

“-my daughter, _Regina_.” 

 

Emma’s attention snaps back to the two women standing in front of her and smiles thinly. 

 

“Pleasure,” she says, descending from the throne in a practiced manner. “When Baron Yones promised me I would learn more about my grandfather, I was simple overcome with joy.” She can speak the language everybody seems to speak here, fancy and completely ridiculous. 

 

Baron Yones’ eyes go wide when she turns to him and beckons the two men who tried to slip into the shadows. 

 

“Tell me, Prince Henry, how did you meet King Leopold?” She asks sickly sweet as the prince’s eyes plead with his wife’s.

 

The putrid smell intensifies and the prince takes a step forward. 

 

“Sir Henry, Your Majesty. I am no longer a prince.” The meek man from two seconds ago disappears and in his place, a well-worded and confident man appears. Emma waits for her question to be answered. 

 

“I met His Majesty when my daughter, Regina, saved sweet Snow White from a wild horse.” 

 

She knows this is where she turns and regards the girl with interest, but she’s furious that the Baron undermined her rule about marriage. Instead she continues to stare at the man with an air of indifference. The woman speaks instead. 

 

“Truly, it was Regina who knew him best. She was to marry him before he sadly passed away, God rest his soul.”

 

It’s so painfully _fake_ that Emma actually takes two seconds before she turns to face the woman and Regina. “Is that so?”

 

She finally looks directly at Regina and she’s surprised and pleased to find a scar adorning pink lips. Emma stares a little too hard and when she makes her way up to the girl’s eyes, she sees amber darkening with disgust. 

 

“Yes,” Regina says an octave too low. Emma can see her own face tint rose in the mirrors covering the back of the throne room’s wall. “Your Majesty,” she adds when the awful smell reappears. 

 

Emma takes a moment to regard the situation she’s uncomfortably found herself in. She can feel the magic coming off in waves from Regina’s mother, and she has no doubt that the Baron had very little to do with this meeting. 

 

“I would love to hear more of it. In fact, I’d hate not to be informed of this fascinating story,” Emma says, rising to her fullest height. The woman looks pleased and when she takes a step towards Regina to place a hand at the small of her back, Emma sees through the mirror how Regina stiffens as her mother’s magic shocks through her. 

 

“ _In fact_ ,” she adds hastily, her heart thundering as she sees an ounce of pain in Regina’s face, “I would hate even more for your daughter to be left without a husband.” 

 

The woman’s eyes dance dangerously happy and Emma registers what she’s just said. The Baron’s eyes are wide with surprise and Emma realizes a second too late that she should have stuck with the ‘no marriage’ attitude a bit more fiercely. 

 

When the woman’s magic retreats and Regina’s spine isn’t so still if in the mirror, Emma can’t bring herself to regret her hastily made decision, not when amber eyes loose the pain. 

 

Her resolve wavers when Regina’s eyes harden with hate and lips curl in disgust. 

 

Emma may not have thought this through. 

 


	3. lips red as blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would like to thank my mother, who pissed me off so much last night that i wrote about gay marriage as revenge

Sun-kissed. 

 

The new Queen looks like she’s walked a thousand acres across the sun just to land, embers woven in her hair, in that grey metal throne smirking down at them. 

 

She’s _light_ , with her white gown covering every inch of her body and her skin contrasting starkly against the somber room. The only color in her, and the thing that makes Regina pause, is the red staining her lips, far too dark to be considered presentable in the White kingdom. 

 

(She fits the name well, this new White Queen, except her brows are too full and dark, darker than the fair hair cascading past her waist, for the woman to be entirely, sinfully _pure_.)

 

The Queen rises with composure and her hair falls from her shoulders in a rippling wave- brighter than any magic Regina’s seen. There’s a wobble by her left foot that almost has Regina reaching out, stupidly so as the Queen straightens out and descends the steps with an even and closed off face.

 

Her voice is far too low ( _high and light to portray innocence, my dear_ ), except it carries throughout the room as if she’s spoken right at Regina’s ear. Mother twitches by her side when she hears the accent underlining the kind words of the Queen. 

 

Then the blonde turns her head, hair swaying in tight curls past her waist, and addresses Daddy in that tone that has Mother stiffening. 

 

“Tell me, Prince Henry, how did you meet King Leopold?” 

 

And Regina understands what pretense they’ve made their way through the castle and the guards. She sees Daddy shrinking, Mother’s finger twitching. 

 

Regina is _almost_ impressed until-

 

Mother’s magic envelops her, shocks through her waist and stiffens her spine with one tight hand against her dress. She thinks she’ll suffocate with the pressure when sees the Queen open her mouth hastily. 

 

The Queen speaks of husbands and promises; the magic recedes and suddenly, all Regina sees in the Queen is red, blood red that stains and seeps through what little control Regina had.

 

She hates the blonde hair illuminated by the high windows, the pale skin and green eyes that shine too brightly and too knowingly. 

 

A wife gained, a Queen made- Regina has lost.

 

“What do you _propose_ , My Queen, if you do not wish to leave my daughter without a husband?”

 

The blonde hesitates, looks at Regina with piercing, wild eyes (too wild to be a Queen’s, she’s too much too much, entirely _too_ ) and flicks her tongue to the corner of her mouth. 

 

“A walk,” she speaks directly to Regina, “and the only gift I can bestow an almost widow.”

 

The Queen extends her arm in a too ( _too much_ and Regina can’t breathe, _can’t breathe_ against her dress) gangly manner and she sees Mother exhale through her nose. A cold hand is pressed to her back and she automatically steps forward. 

 

“As you wish,” Regina says, trying to keep the disdain from her voice and succeeding just barely. 

 

She passes from Mother’s arms to the Queen’s and it isn’t lost on Regina how easily she trades cages these days.

 

They leave Mother and the somber throne room behind; the Queen leads her through three passages before finding a door to the outside. If the Queen looks lost, Regina doesn’t notice. 

 

It’s bright outside and the blonde seems to just _become_ one with the light. For a moment, Regina looses her in the glare of the sun and in the green of the dying trees until her vision shifts and the Queen remains where she was, alive and guiding her through the castle grounds. 

 

She feels her entire body tense around the arm wrapped around her own and it takes every single thing beating inside her not to yank her arm away. It’s a quiet walk with the Queen stealing glances from the corner of her bright eyes. Regina stares forward and tries not to think of Mother alone in the castle.

 

“Would you like to see my gardens?” Regina tires, she truly does, but her nose wrinkles with distaste at the blonde’s words. She’s guided through the metal doors guarding the trimmed hedges before she has the chance to nod tersely. 

 

The trees are dying, the roses are wilting and Regina is trying her hardest not to run.

 

There’s a blue bird perched by one of the branches and when the Queen takes a step in it’s direction, it opens its beak to cry before hurriedly flying off. 

 

The Queen pays the bird no mind, nor the dozens of blue wings that flutter away with every step she takes across the gardens.

 

“They say these trees have survived a hundred wars and a dozen kings. Sturdy and old.” She says and it’s as if the sound of her whisper brings the breeze that make the trees dance. “Much like your late husband.”

 

“He certainly was old,” Regina says evenly and the Queen stops walking. Regina closes her mouth with an audible snap.

 

When the Queen doesn’t say anything, merely stares and _stares,_ Regina faces her slowly. Shecan feel Mother’s phantom anger wrapping around her throat. 

 

The blonde blinks and the skin around her eyes tenses visibly. Regina is close enough that she can see pale eyelashes frame those knowing eyes, she can count the effect the sun’s had on pale skin with burnt freckles.

“Yes, he has, wasn’t he?” Is all the Queen offers. Regina feels her anger stir and bubble up her spine- her magic is waking up. She directs her eyes away from her pale face and looks elsewhere, _anywhere,_ to control herself. 

 

They’ve stopped right beside the rows of trees, a few of their apples still dangle pathetically from it’s _sturdy_ branches. Regina notes with satisfaction, and a sly smile she can’t control, that they are not as red or bright as her own back at Mother’s home. 

 

The Queen notices her staring and, disentangling herself from Regina, reaches for one with childish glee. The trees are tall- they look like they’re scraping by the blue sky with their imposing figures and the Queen has to jump (gathers up her skirts and pushes her hair out of her face, Regina sees her eyes flash silver and gold) to pluck one right from the stem. 

 

Regina’s stomach sinks so quickly she thinks she’s about to bend over with pain.

 

When the Queen turns, there’s a glint of pure joy in her eyes that has Regina gritting her teeth and taking a step back.

 

(When she offers the apple to a retreating Regina, the Queen doesn’t notice the quick flash of pain in brown eyes- _sinking sinking sinking_ )

 

“Is this your gift?” Regina says, chin directed heavenward. 

 

The apple is between the both of them, suspended in time. The Queen frowns in confusion. 

 

“No? I was going to take you to see the King. In his coffin. I thought-“

 

“I hated your grandfather.” When the blonde doesn’t react, just blinks those blasted green eyes and dangles the apple between them, Regina continues coldly. “If I wouldn’t marry _him_ , why would I marry _you_?”

 

“Uh-“ The Queen opens her mouth and Regina sees a row of crooked teeth. Green eyes flicker from the apple to Regina and back again, until Regina _understands_. 

 

“You are truly not from this land, are you?” She takes the apple with deft fingers, forces her stomach to stop coiling so uncomfortably _familiar_ , and bites roughly into the wrinkled skin. Juice spills from the corner of her mouth as she throws the bitten apple to the floor, sees it roll to the blonde’s pale gown and stain the white fabric. 

 

The Queen blinks.

 

“Mother was right- foreigners _are_ fools.” She swallow the bitter taste and watches as the Queen’s shoulders tense.

 

Crooked teeth disappear as she thins her lips out and frowns at Regina. 

 

This Queen is not a royal- she is not made of the same blood and fabric as King Leopold was, and the sickest part of this is that Regina hadn’t noticed until now. 

 

“Where,” the Queen’s frown deepens, “did you get the idea I wish to marry you?”

 

“A Queen, a _King_ , does not show as much interest in someone and offers them an apple-“

 

“It’s not as if it’s a ring-“

 

“In _this_ land, it may as well be. And back at the castle- do not tell me you were merely-“

 

“Being friendly? Uh- yes!” Queens don’t stutter, queen’s don’t make promises laden with _future rings crowns_ in front of almost widows. A Queen wouldn’t, but this fool _did_. Regina takes an angry step forward and sees a million freckles splattered across red cheeks. 

 

“You would have blessed a widow with a gift, you said-“

 

“I would have said anything for her to stop touching you!”

 

She goes still, goes quiet, goes _numb_. Regina doesn’t breathe for twenty three seconds and the Queen wipes angrily at the corner of her mouth.

 

(Silver. Regina catches something swirling in grey and black but her mind is _frozen shattered she can’t think-_ )

 

“I will end you if you place a crown upon my head,” Regina growls.

 

She understands this Queen has little to no value or say in this kingdom and it is because of this that she doesn’t hesitate to take another step and snarl her lip directly in the White Kingdom’s Queen’s face. She sees a muscle twitch in a pale cheek. 

 

“You are _no_ Queen if you can not refrain from making foolishly rushed decisions-“ The Queen sputters and tries to interject, “ _to fix a problem you do not understand!_ ”

 

Regina doesn’t raise her voice, her breathing is as moderate as the Queen’s is rough. She’s the perfect picture of composure. If only Mother were to see.

 

“I will _kill_ you and disgrace you from the throne if you so much as hand me another apple in front of my Mother.”

 

Green eyes flicker back and forth from Regina’s eyes, wild and confused. Regina has lost the patience to explain how she has very little moves left that don’t include magic or yelling at a Queen who has two, maybe three months before she ruins the kingdom. 

 

The leaves rustle in the breeze again and Regina hears the bird’s song far, far away. The Queen doesn’t move.

 

“Look at that” the Queen says instead, voice thin and airy. “I’m all out of apples.” Her eyes travel downwards and Regina sees the apple at her feet- blackened and rotten to the core.

 

 

*

 

When they walk back to the castle, terse and brimming with anger, Regina doesn’t notice how Mother’s magic is palpable through the stone walls. She doesn’t notice the Queen tensing beside her, or the low murmur of voices coming from the room. 

 

She’s preoccupied with planning how to hide the Queen’s false proposal and how Regina’s deemed her daft enough to manipulate. Her hands are twisting nervously and she’s walking slowly so as not to reach Mother quite yet.

 

Regina should know better than spewing quick fire at a royal, even if she had a right to be angry _furious_ , (and she’s decided that it was her magic speaking, but she can’t bring herself to regret it because the Queen is not proposing and Regina’s not spending the rest of her life with a colossal idiot).

Regina should know better and she knows when Mother finds out she will be lashed a hundred and three times across her knees- but that pain is a hundred and three times more bearable than seeing the Queen brandishing an apple like a skilled warrior and enslaver. 

 

The throne room looks far darker now that she’s coming from the outside and when Regina sees Mother in the middle of the room her reflection on every mirrored wall, the Queen sighs. 

 

Baron Yones looks pale, far, _far_ too pale and he’s shifting from foot to foot as if he can’t stand still. He’s looking at the Queen with eager desperation and he rushes to her side the second they step through the door. 

 

The Queen sighs again and Regina sees Mother smiling reservedly, with her eyes glinting too brightly in the dark room. 

 

“My Queen,” Baron Yones squeaks, his finger fluttering around his belt. “I have _grand_ news-“

 

And when she does notice Mother’s magic, she also see the blank stares of the twelve members of the Council, hidden in the shadows and talking lowly, when she sees Daddy cowering by the window and Mother’s smile twisted cruelly, Regina knows she’s lost again.

 

Regina will remember details from this moment much later, like how Emma’s cheeks tinted red with anger and her eyes dulled to a threatening grey, how the air filled with the smell of tangerines and weeds, and how Mother looked at her as if she’d eat her whole and spit her back out with her sharpened teeth. 

 

For now though, the only thing Regina notices is the way Mother’s smile is ten times wider than she’s ever seen it and how the Baron’s next couple of words flattened her entire world between the walls of the castle.

 

*

 

_Fucked_.

 

Emma is so incredibly, incomprehensibly fucked right now that she doesn’t know whether to cry or punch somebody. 

 

She focuses all of her energy on Baron Yones, stupid and old and even more incredibly fucked than Emma is. She’d feel pity for him if she weren’t being yelled at by twelve different men, all blue faced and spitting directly at her feet.

 

She wonders if Cora has plucked their hearts from their chest. Wonders if Lady Regina is helping her mother manipulate these twelve men from the throne room, if she tried to save the brunette for no reason at all. 

 

Then she remembers the fallen apple by her feet, bitten and blackening quickly; Lady Regina’s promise to kill her if she doesn’t stop what these twelve men are trying to force on the two of them now. 

 

She straightens out and doubles her efforts.

 

“If I remember correctly, the Council is not allowed to make any decisions without the consent of the Crown.” She cuts off the blue faced man and watches as the color returns to his cheeks. “This order will not hold.”

 

“Your Majesty,” another man squeaks impossibly high, “Refusing the order is going against the Crown, it is grounds for treason-“

 

The absolute truth is that Emma doesn’t know what the Council is and isn’t allowed to do without her presence, but she has enough grasp of her own world’s politics to know that twelve old men aren’t allowed to make decisions for her.

 

“I will not marry simply because you ordered it!” She watches their faces closely and notices with disappointment that none of them react. She can feel Cora’s magic straightening slowly and shifts on her feet, eager to return downstairs. 

 

“The Council has decided that, in the absence of a King, the Council is allowed to make decisions without the consent of the Queen. Of course, once the crown is truly yours, Your Majesty, you will act in the King’s place and may rebuke the order.” Another man with a blue vest pipes up. 

 

Complete and utter bullshit is what Emma is listening to and she knows she should have payed more attention to this world’s politics before she conceded to become Queen. 

 

Still, she tries again.

 

“The marriage can not be arranged before the enthronement,” she reasons, “and as such I will be able to rebuke the order after the crown is placed on my head.”

 

The men titter and look around uncomfortably. 

 

“As I said before, I will not marry, nor will I force the idea on Lady Regina. If she does not wish it, I will not act upon it.”

 

It’s the wrong thing to say because all twelve men’s face darken at the same time and Emma knows this is Cora’s doing. 

 

“The Council,” the vested man steps forward, “has decided that you will marry Lady Regina. And if you choose to go against the order, there will be _consequences_.” Cora’s magic seeps through the walls and Emma’s nose wrinkles with the smell. 

 

“Treason is handled very differently in this land, dear.” Baron Yones steps forward with a suspiciously blank look. “The Queen is not the only one who is punished.”

 

Cora’s magic flares up and Emma swallows roughly with the implication. She knows it’s Cora’s doing, this whole shitstorm of a threat and Emma would have normally punched back if it were only about her. 

 

As it is, she decides as the pungent magic swirls through the air, it’s not just about her. It’s about Lady Regina sitting alone with Cora downstairs while the magic grows and grows and _grows_. 

 

Emma forgets nearly everything and hikes her skirts up as she takes the stairs two at a time. She’s fucked, so irrevocably fucked and stuck in a corner she can’t seem to get out of. She’ll marry Regina, she’ll give up her crown, she’ll fucking do anything if Cora will simply _stop_.

 

*

 

“I did not think she would fold so easily,” Mother mock whispers in the empty throne room. There’s muffled screaming coming from the floor above them and Regina stares at the metal throne chair with frozen horror.

 

There will be two chairs up in the dais now, one for each Queen. 

 

“I was afraid, when you bit into the apple, that this would be then end of you, Regina. But I have always been very quick to fix your mistakes, darling,” Mother continues.

 

Regina’s eyes flutter shut. Of course, _of course_ Mother would be watching her as she walked with the Queen. 

 

She feels a small shock behind her ear and grits her teeth. When the shock becomes more than uncomfortable, Mother continues speaking as if her magic wasn’t imbedded sharply in Regina’s skin and hurting her. She feels a painful tug at the back of her heart and she’s terrified, for a brief second, of losing her heart.

 

“Baron Yones called down the Council, an what a marvelous idea it was! They decided, as a unit and entirely unanimous, that the Queen is far too inexperienced to reign alone.”

 

The voice above them rise higher and higher still. There’s a strangled cry and multiple people talking all at once. 

 

The smell of tangerines deepens and Regina feels her stomach coil. Her vision blackens slowly and then all at once, she can barely see; there’s pain behind her eyes, her heart, at the base of her head, just behind her ear. She tries breathing in slowly.

 

“It was a great idea, my darling girl, to come down today when the entire Council was present. And an even greater idea still, that you accepted the Queen’s gift, do you not think so?”

 

Magic stabs her painfully just above her ear and Regina nods helplessly. She hadn’t accepted the Queen’s gift, she hadn’t- but with Mother’s magic hazing her thoughts and stealing her breath, Regina will say anything. She feels faint, as if she’ll drop to the ground in a matter of seconds. Mother’s magic has never gone quite this far, this quickly. Her heart slows down, her breathing becomes painful. She clasps her hands behind her back and focuses on keeping her eyes open.

 

The voices stop abruptly when Mother’s magic intensifies and in two seconds flat, the doors to the room are opened and the Queen struts forward menacingly. 

 

If she was white before- good and pure, Regina’s foggy brain whispers- she’s not red. Angry red cheeks, red lips, red energy. 

 

She comes into the room and the walls startle awake, bringing the room to dull, shaking life.

 

“The Council,” Regina can barely see the Queen through her pain. Mother’s magic doesn’t recede. “-has graciously informed me of their decision.” 

 

Mother doesn’t reply and Regina notices Baron Yones stepping quietly into the room, twice as pale as he’d been when it was Mother he was talking to. 

 

“As such,” The Queen takes a deep breath and Regina focuses on staying on her feet, “it would be my greatest honor to have Lady Regina as my wife and Queen.”

 

Mother’s magic lets up in one swift motion and Regina has to take a step forward to balance herself and keep from falling. 

 

Her mind sharpens at the same time her vision clears. She notices the Queen first, wild and red and looking at her with such an intense look of concern. Regina doesn’t understand a thing. 

 

“It would be Regina’s honor, my dearest Queen, to be your betrothed.” Mother speaks up, voice disgustingly warm.

 

The Queen doesn’t take her eyes off Regina and her brows frown almost imperceptibly as if asking a question. 

 

Regina’s mind is too foggy, to drugged with Mother’s magic and she can’t keep from swaying or shaking her head. Everything is blurred to incomprehensible pain and she can’t seem to open her mouth to scream.

 

“Baron Yones, please escort Lady Regina to the nearest bedchamber. She looks ill.” The Queen’s voice is thick with worry. It’s true, Regina notes when she lazily catches a glimpse of herself in the mirrored wall, Mother’s magic has left her worse for wear. 

 

“My daughter is just fine-“

 

“Baron Yones.” The blonde interrupts and Mother falls uncharacteristically silent. 

 

This all means _something_ , but Mother’s magic is seeping through her veins and making her _weak weak weak_. She strains to sharpen her vision.

 

There’s a split second of indecision in the man, one where he glances at Mother and then back at the Queen, shuddering dramatically before taking a step forward an offering his arm to Regina. She hangs off the man’s arm willingly and tells her magic not to lash out and cut the Queen’s throat. 

 

She wonders if the red of her blood would look as nicely on her white dress as it does on her lips. 

 

When she falls on the bed, foggy brained and loose limbed, she thinks of green eyes stretched wide in their worry and red lips between crooked teeth. 

 

_As a unit and entirely unanimous that the Queen-_

 

_The Council has informed me of-_

 

_Lady Regina as my wife and Quee-_

 

Her body falls victim to Mother’s magic before she has time to understand why the Queen had looked so afraid. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! please let me know what you think! <3


	4. the skin of the crocodile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how this chapter got so long, but here it is! 
> 
> i hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think!

Regina dreams of the color green. 

 

There’s endless rows of trees surrounding her and she can feel her skin heating up under the sun, its rays barely peeking through the leaves. It’s the most comfortable she’s been in ages and she relishes in the way the grass feels underneath her bare toes. 

 

She walks freely through the trees and when she doesn’t reach anything but green grass and green trees and green moss, she doesn’t grow nervous. She simply walks. 

 

And when her skin begins prickling under the sun, she doesn’t grow worried that Mother will grow furious over her tan. She simply unbuttons the top of her cape and lets it fall to the ground. 

 

She’s been walking a while when her skin becomes uncomfortably hot and she tries finding shelter from the sun, struggles to find water. 

 

She walks and walks and when she sees a streak of white in the distance, the glare of the sun on water, she presses a hand to the back of her forehead in relief and _runs_.

 

The green is too bright and the sun is too hot, she’s sweltering under her thick dress and she feels like there’s something burningand blistering down her throat. She reaches the end of the pond and falls desperately to her knees. 

 

She’s reaching for the water, her hands trembling and desperately outstretched, when it disappears, the water, the moss, the trees- 

 

All that remains is the green staring back at her. 

 

_“Regina, please.”_ She hears somebody say and she struggles to focus her eyes. She was dreaming, she knows she was dreaming because there isn’t a place on this realm that would make her feel as safe as she did surrounded by the trees and the sun.

 

It’s because of this that she knows she’s awake, but there’s something terribly wrong, something _off_ about how her body is positioned, how her mind is struggling to form words and she doesn’t- she doesn’t _know_ -

 

_“Regina,“_ somebody says louder and she cringes. _Too loud, so so loud._  

 

There’s fire underneath her skin and she feels like she’s directly underneath the sun in the hottest days of summer, turning dark and brown and feeling terrified of how her skin would look against the light colored dresses Mother bought. 

 

She can feel herself burning and she has the strangest thought that she’s being cooked alive so Mother can finally be rid of her. 

 

The fire licks its way up her spine, slowly and unbearably patient in its destruction. Regina tries crying out for for water, for Mother but her mouth is parched and her tongue is heavy against her dry teeth. 

 

_please please please stop-_

 

The fire climbs her spine like a ladder and she lifts a heavy hand to find Mother.

 

_make it stop please please I’ll be-_

 

Her hand touches cold fabric and for one frozen second, her vision clears and she sees the Queen’s face, tight and pale with concern. Her hand falls away and the fire returns. 

 

_good I’ll be good please please please stop make it stop_

 

The warmth makes its way to her head and when Mother doesn’t make it stop, when Mother continues her torture, Regina lashes out in her pain and grabs a fistful of cold fabric. 

 

The fire stops climbing. 

 

“Regina,” she can hear a voice but Regina wildly searches for Mother in the dark room. “I’m trying. I’m trying- I’ve sent for the physician already-“

 

There’s more mumbling and frantic gulps of breath taken from both women in the room. Regina tries swallowing roughly, her head is pounding and she can’t make sense of what is happening. 

 

Mother’s not here, Mother’s gone and she’s left her burning. 

 

“Please, lay back down,” the Queen says, touching her on her shoulder. The skin underneath the pale hand cools down immediately; the Queen doesn’t notice. “Please.”

 

She’s still at the castle then, Regina pieces together, if the Queen is still here. She remembers something about the Council, something about Mother looking as if she’s moved the ocean and the moon at the same time: selfish and proud.

 

The room is elaborately decorated and she can see various perfumes and combs on the vanity in front of the bed. The Queens bedchamber, she thinks, because if she can’t make sense of her pain or her Mother, she’ll make sense of the Queen and her surroundings. 

 

She can see herself in the mirror, hair mussed, face flushed and red- _burning burning burning._

 

“Please,” the Queen begs, her hand still on her shoulder. 

 

She falls back on the bed and like a cruel joke, the Queen’s hand disappears and with it, Regina’s comfort. 

 

The fire starts at her toes this time and she feels her heart slowing down. She can hear the Queen talking frantically and hovering her hands over her head as if deliberating to touch her. She’s vaguely aware that she’s screaming hoarsely as the fire crawls slowly up her calves.

 

_“Please, please, I’m trying-“_ is the last desperate thing she hears before she starts dreaming of green again. 

 

-

 

The next time she wakes, the room is darker still and the fire has dulled down to an uncomfortable tingling. There’s a weight by her feet and she takes a few minutes of feeling and memorizing the way her heart beats rhythmically in her chest before she tries sitting up. 

 

“Oh, dear- please don’t.”

 

Her eyes close by their own accord when Mother speaks and she lays terribly stiff on the bed. She hears ruffling and the bed dips as Mother sits closer to her, places a damp cloth to her neck. She’s mumbling something and Regina strains to hear what she’s saying.

 

“-knows about me, I’m sure. But that’s nothing to fret about. We want her _scared_ , child, and we accomplished just that.”

 

Mother places a hand on her forehead and pushes back the wisps of hair drenched in sweat. Regina opens her eyes at the gesture and swallows thickly at what she sees. 

 

Mother is _frantic_.

 

Her dress and make-up are intact, but there’s something moving around in her eyes that looks dangerously close to concern. 

 

“What?” Regina croaks out and shudders when speaking causes her throat to spasm. 

 

“Oh, hush- don’t speak. Or move.” Mother flattens her hair on the right side of her head and looks at her with a blank face. “She wouldn’t let me near you, little one. I would have come sooner, but there were five guards by the door and she was in here the entire time-“

 

_The Queen_ , Regina catches up with Mother’s hurried explanation. 

 

“I had to wait until she was dragged away by the Baron to steal in here and- I was afraid I was too late.” Mother nods and pets her hair slowly. There’s the smallest of quivers in her voice. “I could have fixed it in a second, but she made you lay here for two days-“

 

She remembers the Queen, twice as frantic as Mother is now, hovering with glassy eyes and trembling pale hands:

 

_“I’ve sent for the physician already-“_

 

The Queen, trying to save something she doesn’t understand. Again.

 

“-you’ll miss the coronation, of course, but not the wedding. Oh, no, not the wedding.” Mother transforms right before Regina’s eyes. Her shoulders straighten out and her face regains the composure fit enough for the queen the kingdom needs.

 

The room falls silent and Regina can see Mother’s face, illuminated slightly by the fire crackling beside them, twisted into something hungry. 

 

A creaking sound shrills through the silence and when the sound of water filling a tub is heard through the ceiling, Regina takes a deep breath and angles her face away from Mother. 

 

“Oh, don’t be mad, child!” When Regina stays facing the fire, the older woman reaches for her chin and forces her to stare at brown eyes. “It had to be done,” she says slowly. 

 

“You nearly killed me,” Regina whispers. When Mother drops her hand from her chin, Regina knows she’s right. 

 

“I _saved_ you,” Mother scowls and fixes the robe around her. “It was the only thing that would force the Queen’s hand.”

 

Something tugs at the back of her mind, a memory that’s clouded with pain and red- she strains to remember. There is so much she doesn’t understand and with Mother near, she doesn’t know what is real and what isn’t.

 

“You would not have needed to save me if you-“

 

“Enough!” Mother whispers sharply. “I saved you because I love you. I did what was _best_ for you.”

 

Mother’s face wrinkles into another mask, this one is creased with lines of concern. She smoothes a hand down Regina’s hair and cups her cheek. 

 

“I do love you, my dear. And I will protect you until we’re both blue in the face.”

 

The tugging becomes persistent now but her mind is heavy with Mother’s words and her gentle touch. 

 

_You could have killed me, you nearly burned me from the inside_ , she wants to scream.

 

“I love you, Mother,” she says instead, her voice wavering and cracking. She watches with scared eyed as Mother sighs contentedly and nods. 

 

“Of course you do.” She pats Regina’s cheek and the younger women tries not to flinch. “Rest now, my dear. The Queen will be here soon.”

 

She leaves in a cloud of smoke that has Regina’s eyes watering and stinging. She sits up for the first time and her entire body protests madly. Inhaling sharply, she looks around the warm room and forces herself out of the bed. Her knees give away as soon as her feet hit the ground and she sits crouched by the bed for a couple of minutes, inhaling sharply through the pain. 

 

Once she can feel her heart beating normally and her head stops spinning, she hauls herself up by gripping the bed frame.

 

The room is spacious with its blue walls and its white bed. She can’t see much except for what little the fire illuminates, but she slowly limps in front of the mirror and strips from the night gown she’s been changed into. 

 

A couple of days, Mother had said. 

 

Regina lets the fabric fall to the floor and she stares blankly at her torn body. There’s bruises adorning every inch of her skin, wrapped around her arms and neck, outlining the bones of her spine and ribs. She can barely see her brown skin.

 

She lifts a hand to touch a bruise, red and angry, like a small sun blossoming just beneath her skin, and hisses when her body protests against the pressure. She’s never seen her body this affected by Mother’s magic and she quickly bends down to retrieve her gown- too quickly, she realizes when her knees give out again and she crumples to the ground.

 

_I was afraid, when you bit into the apple, that this would be the end of you_.

 

What was once tugging painfully at the back of her mind resurfaces uncomfortably fast and, as the words wash over her bent form, she digs her nails into her palm.

 

The fire pops and cracks in the silent room. Regina can hear water splashing against the tub and the rhythmic sound of feet hitting stone. She blindly searches for her gown, still curled up on the floor and breathing harshly, and tries not to notice how different it feels to be under somebody else’s clothes, in a room- in a _castle_ that she doesn’t want to call hers. 

 

A door shuts somewhere above her and Regina takes a deep breath. There is life here, slow and sluggish, but life nonetheless. There are people here that will live and work whether she’s here as the prisoner queen or not.

 

Her presence here doesn’t matter- not in the castle, not in Mother’s life. 

 

_The end of you._

 

She lets the words sway her over, lets her eyes water with the stinging realization that Mother was willing to let her die in that throne room if the Queen had not proposed. 

 

Her entire existence, she concludes with a shuddering breath, boils down to being in this damned room, a breath away from dying or being queen. 

 

She feels as if those are the only two things to be: dead or queen. Her feet are restless with the lack of places to hide and she decides rather quickly that she doesn’t want to be in either of those places. She’d rather be dead than be Queen and be Queen rather than be dead. 

 

But Mother-

 

Mother _gave_ her those choices, Mother manipulated and played the Queen and Regina into this game of hers and if she could just get an inch of freedom, of _power_ , she could have _more_ than two options. 

 

She takes a deep breath and with renewed purpose, wills her magic to come forward. When the usual buzz does not come alive underneath her fingertips, she stops clutching the gown to her chest and forces herself on her knees. Desperate and full of intention, she crawls to the mirror and hauls herself up by gripping the edge of the vanity.

 

This time, she doesn’t touch the bruises lightly. She forces the skin to dimple as she puts pressure on each wound and forces- _wills_ her magic to protect her. 

 

It takes her a couple of tries for one mark to disappear but when it does, she feels the relief almost instantly. Moving quickly and almost madly to the next mark she almost doesn’t notice the mark just below where her heart is.

 

It’s light grey and almost translucent, but against her tan skin she can see it clearly. It swirls downward and rises awkwardly at one end- it’s the strangest mark Regina’s seen. It’s not Mother’s- Mother’s magic is black and ugly and wouldn’t leave a mark this gentle.

 

Regina traces it with cold fingers and when she lingers on the swirl, she can feel the heat emitting from it. Did the physician try healing her with magic? 

 

The sound of a door slamming and footsteps fast approaching down the stairs jolts her from her thoughts and she quickly bends for her gown. She hastily throws it on just before there’s a sharp knock on her door.

 

“Regina-“ The Queen bursts through the doors without invitation. Regina can see more than a couple of guards behind her. “Oh.”

 

The Queen comes in with her hair dripping wet and her gown sticking to her in the odd places her body hasn’t dried yet. Her face is free of any make up and Regina can see, even in the dim light, the explosion of freckles. There’s no red lips or red cheeks tonight, there’s only a face blank enough to loose in the shadows. 

 

“You’re up,” the blonde whispers shakily before looking around the room and striding forward with purpose. “Check the closet,” she orders one of the guards and Regina’s anger bubbles. 

 

“And what gives you reason to be here?” When the blonde doesn’t bother with an answer, she stands on trembling knees. The Queen stops looking under the bed foolishly and snaps bleary eyes to Regina’s. 

 

“Your Mother-“ she straightens and rushes to Regina’s side, hovering like she did that first night. Regina smells that sharp scent of weeds and tangerines again. “Where is she?”

 

“How should I know? I’ve just woken up.” She crosses her arms over her chest and the Queen’s wild eyes tame just a fraction. 

 

Water drips to the stone floor and the blonde’s chest heaves up and down. Regina wonders if she ran here. 

 

“Are you well? I’ll send for Victor again, you should sit-“ The Queen reaches up to press the back of her hand to Regina’s forehead and only stops trying when Regina jerks away with a glare. 

 

“Are you well?” She repeats when the guards leave empty handed. Regina nods stiffly and sits on the vanity chair again when she feels her knees shaking uncontrollably. Her head is pounding and the million bruises adorning her body are starting to throb again. 

 

“I was worried, when you wouldn’t- it’s been _days_ and _nothing_ was working-“ she takes a steadying breath and Regina notices the half circles under her eyes, the red adorning the edges of her green orbs and the fact that the Queen took a shower so late into the night. “How _are_ you awake?”

 

Regina shrugs as daintily as she can but the blonde squints suspiciously and rakes her eyes through her body. Green eyes grow wide at the lack of bruises and Regina tries not to squirm in her seat. 

 

“It must have worked, whatever ailment you used,” she tries responding casually. The Queen’s eyes snap to her own pale hands and she turns them over in fascination- as if it were those same hands that stopped Regina from dying.

 

Attempting to stop the magic thrumming through her veins with brute force wouldn’t be the first thing Regina would try, but it seems that the Queen’s thought process didn’t steer far from using her bare hands to stop the flow.

 

(She briefly thinks of the mark below her heart, grey and translucent enough to remind her of the Queen’s eyes in the throne room- but quickly extinguishes the thought. The Queen isn’t strong enough to have magic, to _heal_ Regina.)

 

“I’m just glad you’re awake,” the blonde whispers and Regina finds her anger simmering to the top. 

 

“Why, may I ask?” She doesn’t try standing but the Queen looks startled anyways. “I suppose now you won’t have to look for another wife.”

 

She blinks when her vision starts blackening at the edges and tries to focus on the pale face of the blonde. There are twin red spots growing high on her cheek bones and Regina smiles smugly at the sight. 

 

“I don’t want a wife, Lady Regina. You and I know that very well. If your mother-“

 

“You should have let me die.” Regina interrupts the start of the Queen’s angry rant. “You should have let her kill me if you truly did not want a wife.”

 

The blonde pales and licks her lips. 

 

“Are you crazy? I wouldn’t have-“ She shakes her head quickly, water flicking out everywhere and points a finger at Regina. “You don’t really mean that.”

 

No, she doesn’t. But she wants the blonde to know that she’d rather be anywhere else than in the castle, pretending she’s not a prisoner.

 

She wants to respond and bring the blonde to her knees but her vision is quickly fading and her body is thrumming painfully. Regina tries opening her mouth but her mind is blank and her spine is protesting from sitting so stiffly. 

 

She sees the blurred face of the blonde and tries to hear what her moving lips are saying. All she can see is thin lips moving rapidly and the Queen’s face impossibly close. 

 

The world shifts under her and she realizes, with a jolt of her heart, that the Queen has picked her up and they’re blearily making their way to the large bed. She digs her nails in whatever surface she can get her hands on and struggles against the Queen’s hold. 

 

_“I’m only-“_ she hears a distorted voice say and the arms around her loosen and disappear instantly. Before she can make out where she is and what the Queen is screaming, a hand is pressed to her forehead and her vision completely blackens.

 

*

 

“Let me go, _let me go!_ ” Lady Regina screams hoarsely in Emma’s ear and she nearly drops her on the floor when she feels nails digging into her forearm. “Please,” the brunette sobs and Emma strides hurriedly to the bed. 

 

“No, no, _please_ no,” comes the broken sobs from the delirious girl in her arms and Emma looks down to see Lady Regina staring at the bed with horror. Brows furrowed, Emma continues making her way to the bed and picks up the pace when she feels nails rake against the side of her face.

 

She drops the brunette as gently as she can and pushes her hair out of her eyes quickly before she takes a step back. Her heart beats madly, _furious_.

 

Emma wipes the drop of blood gathering just below her brow and breathes in deeply, staring blankly at the sight in front of her.

 

She notices the lack of hoarse screaming after a couple of minutes of standing still. Regina is asleep- _alive, alive, alive_ \- and she’s stopped trying to gauge Emma’s eyes out with her nails. She tries shifting the brunette so she can pull the covers over her thin frame, but thinks of the stinging cut Lady Regina left behind when she picked her up. 

 

Instead, Emma sits by the end of the bed and stares at her soon to be wife. 

 

There are so many fucked up things about this marriage and coronation and still, Emma can’t help but think that Regina is getting the short end of the stick. 

 

The girl nearly _died_ at the hands of her mother, for fuck’s sake, and the only thing Emma’s worried about lately is if she should wave with her right or left hand when she crosses through the parade on her coronation day. 

 

(Except she’s worried about Lady Regina all of the damn time now, and Cora and her black magic and the threats the Council is still spewing despite the marriage proposal and the coronation day approaching. Mostly, she’s going mad with worry about Regina.)

 

She knows Cora is behind Regina’s sudden awakening. She was taking a bath- the first in a couple of days, the kind Baron had reminded her- when she felt Cora’s magic seeping through the stone and rising the hairs on Emma’s arm. 

 

She had rushed down as fast as she could and when she caught sight of Lady Regina sitting primly and tiredly by her vanity- she had nearly sobbed with relief. 

 

Still, Emma can’t help but wonder if her weak attempts to cool Regina’s temperature down had anything to do with her sudden well being, and she wonders if she left any indication that she used magic on the brunette. 

 

Emma has a new mark on her already tinted body. It sits right below her heart and swirls upwards. It looks hastily drawn, as if it’s unfinished and her magic was interrupted by _something_ \- even though she knows her magic was left uninterrupted for two evenings straight. 

 

Lady Regina murmurs in her sleep and Emma snaps to action. She covers the brunette with the white sheets and calls for Victor to revise the sleeping brunette again. She positions the guards outside the bedchamber and orders one of them to discreetly follow Cora around. 

 

When Victor comes in, disgruntled and bleary eyed, he declares Lady Regina well enough to wake regularly now. 

 

“She’s to rest in bed for a week and walk rarely for two weeks after that. It seems she miraculously recovered,” the doctor drawls and lets go of the wrist he was examining. 

 

Emma doesn’t move from the chair she’s positioned next to the bed and she doesn’t take her eyes off the sleeping brunette when she thanks the doctor and bids him goodbye. When he clears his throat and stands just beside her shoulder, Emma begrudgingly tears her eyes away. 

 

“What is it, Victor?” She snaps.

 

“I must say,” he begins lazily, “I didn’t think you had in you to save her, Your Majesty.” He tips his head knowingly and smirks. 

 

“Speak clearly, doctor,” Emma tries her hardest not to tug at her sleeves and make sure her grey marks aren’t visible. 

 

“I just think it was a foolish act to expose your magic for such a simple girl.” He doesn’t elaborate but his smirk deepens as he turns away, his black bag dangling limply from his hand. 

 

“I assure you, docto-“

 

“Oh, your secret is safe with me, Your Majesty.” He winks in such a manner that indicates it most definitely is _not_ safe with the sleazy man and Emma’s hand curls into a tight fist. “I’ll see you around.” 

 

With that, he disappears through the door and she breathes sharply through her nose. What should it matter, that a lowly doctor knows about her magic? It shouldn’t, mainly because Emma’s never one to hide to please others, but ever since this prickly brunette stormed into her castle and shook every single damn wall, Emma can’t help but care about what will happen to Lady Regina because of her. 

 

She stares at the distressed girl sleeping in her bed for a long minute, until she makes up her mind and silently makes her way to the vanity. There, tucked inside one of the few boxes Emma’s found scattered around, is the ring she placed inside the moment she was first left alone in the castle.

 

She plucks it from its cushion and examines it with squinted eyes. The green stone still shines brightly despite being hidden under dresses and, in more than one occasion, under her tongue, and the golden band is as smooth as the first time Emma remembers touching it. 

 

She slides it easily on her finger and look back at Lady Regina. If she can’t save her from her mother, she’ll make sure she won’t have to live through this hell alone, Emma decides with conviction. 

 

*

 

Lady Regina misses the coronation.

 

It’s a splendid event that has Emma sweating nervously and profusely. Baron Yones is left with the task of fanning around her her neck before she enters the throne room, and when she finally steps through the doors, she has the unbearable desire to throw up. 

 

The room is filled with white flowers- she doesn’t recognize a single one but she knows that they are everywhere. They’re wrapped around the throne and over the dais, scattered across the stairs and woven in the baskets of the servants. Every single person in attendance lays a flower by her feet when she passes by on her way to the throne.

 

It’s a lovely ceremony that everybody but Emma enjoys and the only thing she can think of as she sits on the throne, the crowd cheering madly, is that Lady Regina will have to go through the same dull process when they marry. 

 

( _Marry_ \- Emma still can’t wrap her mind around it. Lost, poor, orphan Emma: wife and Queen of the White Kingdom. She wants to punch somebody.)

 

Her gown is red because the last queen this kingdom had- Queen Eva- wore red nearly every day and is said to have slept in red sheets so as to complement her fair complexion. The color looks good against her blonde hair, Emma has to admit, but the fabric is cut too low at the back as she’s afraid of bending down and revealing her marks. 

 

Lady Cora does not miss the coronation. 

 

She stands at the back of the room with her mouth set in that permanent scowl of hers that reminds Emma of foster mothers with too many children and too little dreams. She ignores her as much as she can because she’s _not_ trying to impress her fiance’s mother, she’s truly _not_.

 

(Its the fiance she’s trying to impress, day in and day out as she visits the bedridden brunette. Her favorite pastime so far has been counting how many times the Lady can yell at her before she slumps over in exhaustion.)

 

The castle doors have opened for the entire kingdom to come and they do not disappoint. There are people crying over her blonde hair and the way she looks so much like her grandfather (she hopes Regina hasn’t noticed) and she ignores every single questioning glance she receives when she repeats the oath and swears to be the true ruler the kingdom deserves. 

 

_I don’t know who my mother is, or how I’m related to King Leopold but I’m going to make a great queen!_ almost slips past her lips because honestly, how did she end up here? The rest of the ceremony is a blur and it isn’t until Baron Yones nudges her none too gently on her shoulder to descend the stairs that she regains the feeling on her feet. 

 

When she walks down the throne stairs and walks on the stupidly expensive carpet on her stupidly expensive dainty shoes, she makes eye contact with the smirking witch at the back. 

 

Her gown is weighing behind her and as it drags, it makes the fabric around her neck tight and suffocating. She knows it’s the dress and not Cora’s doing, but as the doors open for her and she’s announced as the true Queen of the White Kingdom, she can’t help but feel as if she’s signing her crown over to Cora.

 

(And honestly, how did she end up here, with a crown and a wife and nearly everything but a warm heart?)

 

*

 

She comes up with a half thought out plan while complaining to Tiana. 

 

“Am I the only one you talk to in this castle?” She hums as she stirs whatever she’s boiling in the pan. “You need friends.”

 

“I have friends. Lady Regi-“

 

Tiana laughs before Emma even finishes the sentence; the blonde scowls and leans against the table. 

 

“We’re sort of friends.”

 

“You’re _marrying_ her. You’re not even acquaintances, darlin’.” Taking a cup from the many drawers and cupboards, Tiana dumps the contents of the pan and slides the cup over to Emma. 

 

“Whatever.” Emma sniffs the cup. “Anyways, I was thinking-“

 

“Be careful.”

 

“Oh, my _fucking_ -“ Emma growls when Tiana laughs at her frustration. “ _Anyways_. I have to make a trip in a couple of days. Flash my crown and kiss a lot of babies so the villagers will like me.”

 

Tiana nods and serves herself a cup. 

 

“And I was thinking, maybe- maybe I can take Cora with me.” She spits out the sentence and quickly takes a sip from the cocoa Tiana’s heat up.

 

The cook spins in place and opens her mouth in quiet anger. Emma continues sipping. 

 

“Are you _mad_? Are you- I mean, do you wish to _die_? Because she’ll kill you.” Emma looks at the ceiling in feigned interest and Tiana slams the spoon she’s using to stir on the table. “She _will_!”

 

“You know she can’t- at least like, not until _after_ the wedding.” Emma says casually and the cook’s eyebrows rise higher and higher at every word. 

 

“So now we’re discussing murder while we drink cocoa and what, talk about the weather?” Tiana rounds the table and plants herself directly in front of Emma. “What the hell are you thinking, child?!”

 

_I’m older than you!_ Emma wants to scream but Tiana is wielding her spoon like a sword and she really doesn’t want to die on her first night as Queen. 

 

“I’m thinking that Lady Regina needs some time alone, right?” Tiana doesn’t lower her spoon and Emma wipes the cocoa from her upper lip and continues hurriedly. “And if she can just be alone for a week or so, I’m sure she’ll find a way to-“

 

“ _Escape_?”

 

“Or at least have some time alone. To heal from like, nearly being murdered.”

 

“ _Murdered_?” Tiana really knows how to shriek. “You said her mother used magic on her, that she was ill, that you needed to-“

 

“I didn’t have time to _explain_ , Tiana, honestly and-“

 

The spoon comes slamming down again and Emma rolls her eyes. “So explain, _now_.”

 

And so Emma blinks back the fury and the absolute fucking dread that’s pulling at her insides and explains in incomplete sentences how Cora played them both and how Lady Regina’s body was attacking her from the inside out and how Emma was left powerless to watch. 

 

Tiana drops her spoon with a small clatter and leans heavily against the table, just beside a slumped Emma. 

 

“So you have a bride and a homicidal mother-in-law.” She states simply when Emma’s done. 

 

Emma’s inclined to agree and nods her head tiredly. 

 

“And you want to take the homicidal mother-in-law on a little trip so your bride, who hates you, has some time alone.” Tiana continues and Emma cringes. 

 

“Yes,” she says with as much confidence as she can muster.

 

“You’re going to get yourself killed, Emma. I hope she’s damn worth it.” She wraps a dark arm around Emma and squeezes twice. Leaning her head against the cook’s shoulder, Emma feels warm lips pressed to her temple before the cook retreats. 

 

“It’s not _for_ her. I mean-“

 

Tiana silences her with one look and Emma shakes her head. She’s not doing anything extreme for the prickly Lady. She’s _not_. 

 

She’s just trying to help. 

 

Lady Regina’s favorite phrase to use around her echoes in Emma’s mind. 

 

_You’re trying to fix something you don’t understand!_

 

But she _does_ understand, Emma thinks as she watches Tiana wipe a rag across the table. She understands the utter desperation and lack of freedom Lady Regina’s feeling and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try to help _somehow_. 

 

Not that it means anything other than like, friendly concern, Emma reminds herself with a firm mental shake. 

 

*

 

The Queen likes to visit too often. Mother is ecstatic, of course, because they learn much about her during these visits. 

 

Well, _Regina_ learns much about her and Mother listens to Regina’s tired retelling. 

 

The Queen, Regina finds out during the fist night she visits, has a sweet tooth that the cooks like to pamper. She comes in during the middle of the night (Regina suspects its because she’s an insomniac and not because the Queen knows Regina’s sleeping patterns) with a tray filled with sweets Regina doesn’t dare to touch. 

 

She sits at the chair positioned next to the bed and talks lowly about events happening in the castle. Regina pretends to be asleep and never looks at her directly. 

 

It’s the Queen’s fault that she’s in this predicament, she’s decided, and being anything but hostile to her future wife would be foolish. Besides, she mustn’t get attached to the surprisingly gentle Queen if she wants to survive here.

 

She learns, on the third night she visits, that the Queen doesn’t change out of her gowns for the entirety of her day. It’s during her coronation day that Regina notices this because she’s still wearing the chains customary for Queens to wear and her red gown is twice as heavy and elegant than her usual white gowns. 

 

Regina breaks her rule that night and stares at the way the Queen rubs the red from her lips and untangles the long clips from messy curls. When she slumps in her usual chair and starts talking immediately about how she felt like a virgin sent for slaughter up on the dais, Regina has a hard time holding on to her anger. 

 

And when the Queen falls asleep with her feet tucked underneath her and her cup of sweetened chocolate hanging from her finger tips, Regina turns away and curses herself for staring. 

 

It gets decidedly difficult to _not_ stare at the Queen, especially when she makes an announcement after Mother’s slipped into the room early the next morning. Bleary eyed and still in her coronation clothes, the Queen announces how she wants Mother to accompany her during her Royal Entourage around the villages. 

 

Mother inhales sharply and so quietly that Regina almost doesn’t notice her surprise. But when she takes longer to respond than usual and the Queen raises an expectant eyebrow, Regina notices that Mother’s truly taken aback. 

 

“Of course, My Queen,” Mother says sickeningly sweet. “Anything you wish.” She adds for good measure and Regina wonders, not for the first time, if the Queen is as daft as she looks. 

 

She leaves the room after that and Mother grips her shoulders- right where her fading bruises are still healing. 

 

“What a fool!” Mother cries and hugs her briefly. “You’ll stay here, of course, my girl. You need to be healthy for your wedding night.”

 

She hasn’t forgotten (how could she when the Queen plays with the ring on her finger and Regina sleeps in her bed) about the wedding, but now that she’s regaining strength and her mind isn’t delirious with the pain, it’s finally sinking in with full force that she’s being sent off again. 

 

She doesn’t have the luxury of waiting months before the wedding like it was with the late King. No, Mother is not letting this slip through her fingers again. The wedding is scheduled after the Queen returns from her trip, in two weeks time.

 

Two weeks, without the Queen. Without Mother. 

 

She wonders if the Queen actually knows the type of gift she’s handed out so freely and without second thought. 

 

*

 

The night before the Queen is supposed to depart, she steals into her room and shakes her shoulder roughly when Regina pretends to be asleep.

 

“Sorry,” she whispers urgently, but she doesn’t sound apologetic at all. “I have something for you.”

 

The blonde looks sheepishly to the side and holds out her right fist. When Regina doesn’t reach out and simply glares at her, she turns the fist and opens it to reveal a small object glinting in the fire light. 

 

“I believe I made myself clear when-“

 

“I know, I know.” The Queen sighs and Regina sees that her fingers are shaking slightly. “It’s not a proposal, okay? I’ve never actually proposed to you other than that one time in the throne room-“

 

When Regina flinches at the memory, the blonde grows stops abruptly. 

 

“I just- I want you to have it. In case you need it.” Regina eyes the ring and the stone shining brightly. Green, like the Queen’s eyes. 

 

“And why would I need it?” She lets the ring rest where it is and raises one eyebrow. 

 

The Queen drops her hand and huffs. “We’re leaving tomorrow. And I’ve given orders that you are to do whatever you wish while we are gone. Anything you want, anything you do, it’s _fine_.”

 

Regina understands immediately the window she’s been given, but she’s too angry that it’s come from this idiot that she can’t help but scowl.

 

“Why, thank you for your permission,” Regina bows as well as she can while sitting down and sees the Queen’s eyes tighten. 

 

“Just take it.”

 

The Queen takes Regina’s hand in hers and instantly, her magic surges forward madly. She tries jerking away but the Queen is fast. She dumps the ring in her palm and retreats before Regina can blink.

 

“I- good luck, Regina.” She tries half smiling but it comes off as an awkward grimace. 

 

When the blonde closes the door, Regina realizes she’s been handed currency, _money_ , in the form of the Queen’s ring. 

 

Her heart lifts and tightens at the same time. 

 

The next morning, before she has time to say goodbye to either women, they leave her.

 

*

 

She tries running away. 

 

Not because the Queen helped her, not because she has enough money in her pocket to survive, but because she knows she won’t be able to leave. 

 

She’s riding one of the guard’s horses when the branches wrap around her frame and yank her high in the air. She can’t breathe and she’s stupidly afraid of the distance between her and the ground but she’s not the slightest bit surprised when the branches tighten the more she struggles.

 

Her horse has ran off and she’s not sure how she’s going to explain the magic branches to whoever might find her. Mother won’t be the one to lower her, Regina knows that much, but she’s not sure what other alternative she might have. 

 

Her magic buzzes through her fingertips but nothing more than a few wisps of lilac come out. The branches are tightening around her bruises and her breathing is growing shallower when-

 

The wind shifts and her horse comes riding down the passage. He stops directly in front of her and waits patiently for Regina’s command, but her throat is closing up with the tears she won’t shed and the panic gripping her chest. 

 

Suddenly, and all too quickly for Regina’s liking, she’s being lowered to the ground and the branches untangle themselves.

 

She stumbles to the ground and when she takes a deep breath, she feels like her lungs are expanding too widely. With her panic and her confusion, she think she doesn’t have much space left inside her chest. 

 

“These branches turned out to be rather dramatic, don’t you think?” A shrill voice is heard behind her and Regina jumps so high her horse struts backwards, startled. 

 

She turns with a hand hovering over her heart and when she sees who spoke, her thundering heart receives no relieve from the constant surprises she’s been getting. 

 

A short and thin man- if he can be called a man, is positioned ridiculously on his toes, as if he’s about to spring up and start dancing. He certainly has the tights for it. His scaly skin makes Regina pause and blink away her tears. 

 

“What _are_ you?” Slips from her lips without her permission and the man stops curiously looking up at the receding branches. 

 

Regina sees grey eyes and yellowed teeth and takes a step back. 

 

“ _What_? What, what, what-“ The man shakes his head and Regina tries noticing if his skin flaked and fell to the ground with the sudden movement. It didn’t. “How _rude_.”

 

“I- I’m sorry,” she says because the man did just save her from what she think was supposed to be a lengthy punishment. “I just don’t know who-“

 

“Rumplestiltskin, at your most humble request!" He bows dramatically and Regina tries to stop blinking so harshly. He rolls his r’s for one long second and the sound makes Regina more weary than his entire presence. 

 

“Rumplestiltskin,” Regina bows and tries smiling shakily at him. “My name is-“

 

“Oh, I know who you are, dearie!” He steps uncomfortably close and smiles at her with a mouth full of rotten teeth. “Your name is _Regina_.”

 

He says her name almost reverently and she can’t help but grow even more weary of him. “You know me? How?”

 

He side steps her and talks behind her. Regina has a hard time following his erratic movement and she’s more than grateful at the chance for him to stop facing her so closely. 

 

“Why, I met you before. You were just a tiny little baby back then, hm.” He sounds wistful and Regina turns around at his tone. 

 

When he doesn’t elaborate, she frowns and opens her mouth questioningly. “Why-“

 

“To help you, of course!” He points dramatically to the branches, answering her unspoken question. 

 

Help, Regina repeats. Clearly, Rumplestiltskin has magic, powerful enough to disenchant Mother’s spells and when she thinks of him helping her, her magic flickers feebly underneath her skin and stirs. 

 

“How?” She tilts her head to the side. 

 

Mother claims to be helping her by creating a future and life Regina wants no part of. 

 

The Queen’s half hearted attempts to help her only increase her chances of being stuck in the castle for longer than Regina’s ever wanted. 

 

“Magic,” Rumplestiltskin giggles. When Regina’s frown deepens (she won’t become like Mother, with her black magic and her twisted book of spells), his smile grows wider and he stretches his arms out in an excited frenzy. “Good and pure!” He cheers, as if he plucked the words straight from Regina’s mind. 

 

And Regina, with the Queen’s ring weighing heavily in her pocket and her heart still thundering at the sight of the branches, smiles for the first time in weeks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading <3


	5. twin roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! A huge thanks to kelsey for helping me out! <3

Regina’s first lesson with the imp has her curled under the covers for a full night, relishing in the way she can feel her magic thrumming through every vein in her body.

 

He hadn’t been gentle, and she had not expected him to be so anyways. Instead, he had her standing in the middle of the forest while he explained in detail that magic is about-

 

“ _Emotion_ ,” Regina finishes for him, smiling slightly. “Of course.”

 

Rumplestiltskin nods with a wide smile, looking more and more like an oversized child with an addiction to leather. He disappears from in front of her and she rolls her eyes, already annoyed with his theatrics. 

 

“Think of a time when you’d felt the strongest, dearie!” His voice comes from high above, and she shields her eyes from the sun as she looks at the trees. Spotting him up high above in one of the branches, his legs crossed impossibly regally and dangling from the branch, she rolls her eyes yet again. 

 

“And after that?”

 

He waves his hand and disappears again, leaving Regina squinting at red smoke.

 

“What are you thinking of, hm?” He says right beside her shoulder and she jumps a little, chuckling despite herself. 

 

“Daniel,” she starts hesitantly. “I’ve never felt more strongly than when he-“

 

“ _Bah_ ,” Rumplestiltskin cuts her off, sticking a finger in his open mouth and gagging dramatically. “Your lover, a _boy_?”

 

He arches his brow impossibly high at the last word and Regina doesn’t quite understand what he’s implying but her cheeks tint without her permission. She nods and clasps her hands in front of her riding vest. 

 

“Yes. He was my fiancee,” despite the years that followed his demise, her throat still closes up, and her heart stops beating for a whole two seconds at the mere mention of him. 

 

The imp allows her a second of composure, staring at her with a blank face before he giggles and reappears behind her.

 

“Oh, that’s right! Before Mommy dearest crushed his heart,” Regina spins around to face him and sees him clasping his hands right below his chin, sighing contentedly as if he just heard a love story fit for the books.   


 

(Regina seethes and struggles to maintain her composure- what angers her is that with Daniel, she had shared an all-consuming love—the kind that authors spend years trying to jot down and understand. And, now that it’s gone—that _he’s_ gone—she doesn’t know which act is more fit to spin into a story, Daniel’s love or Daniel’s death.)

 

“How did you know?” She breathes and opens her eyes wide. 

 

“Ah, I know everything, dearie.” He does a vague gesture around his eyes and she knows it’s important—it means something but he hasn’t been very forthcoming, so she continues listening. “See, I’ve been waiting for this day for some time now. You skewed my timeline, of course, but now we're right where we belong!”

 

Her moves behind her, and she can feel him breathing against her shoulder.

 

“And where’s that?” She’s almost afraid to ask. 

 

“ _Together_ ,” he states simply, his breath raising the hair on her neck. He’s gone the next second, and she breathes a sigh of relief. “Anyhoo, we can't use that, choose another moment!”

 

She frowns, distracted by his sudden change. There hadn’t been a moment where her heart had thundered and her head had spun so deliriously as when she’d been with Daniel. “I don’t have any other-“

 

“Don’t focus on _wuv_!” He pouts, clasping his hands and batting his eyelashes, and she’s beginning to regret ever listening to this strange…man. 

 

“Love? Well, why not?” She crosses her arms and raises an expectant brow. He shakes his head and clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

 

“Haven’t you heard?” He says this with enough intrigue that Regina leans forward. “Love is weakness!” He finishes dramatically, and Regina’s anger flares as she recalls the last time she heard that phrase. 

 

“To those who haven’t experienced it correctly, maybe.” She says, arms crossed tightly. “But, if you experience it right, love is _strength_.”

 

“And were did that strength get Daniel?” The imp grows somber for a second, and she grits her teeth. “Where did that get _you_?”

 

Rumplestilstkin spreads his arms wide, motioning to the branches and, Regina thinks, to the entire castle. 

 

Her breathing hitches as she looks around obediently. Daniel was murdered because of Mother; she’s known that to be true. It’s the only truth she knew for a while, and even when Mother had caressed her hair and smiled at her warmly, Regina had known that Mother had been the one to cause her this endless pain. 

 

_But_ -

 

But if the imp had a point—and Regina wasn’t naive enough to take his word at face value— _but,_ if he had a point, then Daniel hadn’t died because of Mother at all. 

 

Daniel had died because he loved Regina. 

 

And that was an entirely new burden to bear. She had accepted that if she hadn’t met Daniel at all, with his strong words and rough fingertips, he would have lived longer and probably married to a young wife who didn’t have murderous mothers. If Regina hadn’t loved him at all, Daniel might have lived. 

 

Regina’s love lands people six feet beneath the earth—she knows this to be true. 

 

But _his_ love...for Daniel’s love to be the reason for his death...well, that was too horrid to be true. And, what does that say about her character then if she's too horrible to love andDaniel had found success,only for it to have brought him to his demise? If Daniel had loved somebody else, maybe he would have lived.

 

“And wasn’t it your kiss, your _True Love_ kiss that failed to bring him back?” Rumplestiltskin’s voice startles her from her thoughts, if onlyto slam the breath out of her lungs. “Your love must have not been strong enough,” he giggles, and she looks down to the ground, noticing the green leaves turning gold. 

 

“What do you think of when you use magic?” Her question surprises him, she notes with satisfaction. She sees the startled widening of his eyes just before he starts giggling again. 

 

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you!” He prances around, and Regina regains the breath that was stolen from her. 

 

“Of course,” she agrees mockingly and straightens out, determined not to think about Daniel and have her heart thundering madly and inexplicably afraid. “What shall I think of then, if not love?”

 

Love is strength, she wants to repeat, but it sounds weak even to her own mind. 

 

“What’s the opposite of love, dearie?” He leans in and she sees his scaly skin far too close. She holds her breath in anticipation. “ _Hate_. Anger.”

 

“No,” she shakes her head in defiance and takes a step back. “ _No_ , that’s what _she_ does.”

 

Rumplestiltskin rolls his eyes and sighs. “Well, that must explain why she’s so _adept_ with her magic, hm?”

 

“I won’t become like her. That’s what she uses,” she crosses her arms even tighter across her chest and just barely holds in the desire to stop her foot. “No.”

 

“Of course,” he nods. “But, magic is about strong emotion. You won’t accomplish anything without it.” He taps his fingertips against each other, his fingers forming an arch. 

 

Regina stands still for a minute, deliberating whether or not to storm away from this man. She’s been using magic just fine without him, but she doesn’t have any discipline, and she can’t very well ask Mother. 

 

She licks her lips and uncrosses her arms. Maybe if she’s careful, maybe if she keeps her magic untainted, the imp can help her out of this dire situation. She thinks of the sun-like bruises against her skin, the hundred other injuries her body has survived, and the room that she’s claimed as hers in a castle that won’t ever truly belong to her. She thinks of the Queen, defenseless against Mother and still willing to fight. 

 

“Show me,” she says, and her first lesson begins. 

 

*

 

When Regina had stayed with King Leopold and his daughter, months before the wedding was supposed to take place, he was often away. He never wrote to her directly when he was on the road, merely asking about her well-being in one short sentence in between gushing words for his daughter. Snow had always received letters, and the way her face had brightened when she tore through them was enough for something ugly to build right between Regina’s lungs. Was she worth as little as the sentences Leopold wrote in his letters?

 

With the Queen, though, it’s different. Regina’s not entirely sure the blonde knows how to read or even write, but as the week fades into the weekend and no letter has arrived, she grows agitated. 

 

It’s not as if she wants the Queen’s letter—she just needs proof that either of them are alive. Mother wouldn’t have bothered to write, so from her, silence is customary. But Regina doesn’t have a good enough read on the Queen to know if she should be worried about this lack of correspondence. 

 

She doesn’t have enough time to dwell on it though, because she’s using what little time she has to meet with Rumplestiltskin. 

 

She manages to light a tree on fire during her third lesson, and if she was thinking of the way she felt when Mother crushed Daniel’s heart—well, she’s not dwelling on that either. The imp’s impressed face distracted her enough, driving her to push harder to make her magic flow more easily. 

 

She goes to bed exhausted but for some reason, her eyes remain open, and her magic continues strumming. It’s on this night that she slips on her night gown and creeps through the corridors. 

 

Nobody notices her absence. 

 

She wanders the gardens and halls and ends up in the kitchens some time after midnight. 

 

They’re busy even with the Queen gone but one girl in particular stops stirring with her spoon and stares at her with squinted eyes. Regina licks her lips and turns to go but the girl drops the spoon and hauls her into a chair. She’s seen, for once, and Regina can’t complain. 

 

“Drink this,” the girl orders. Her hair is tightly wound against her head and her green robes contrast richly with her dark skin. “It’s good,” she shrugs and turns away when Regina takes the offered cup.

 

It’s much too sweet, and Regina politely sips from it until the girl laughs and takes it from her. “You’re not from here, hm? Like the Queen?” 

 

“No,” Regina lifts her chin and glares. 

 

“Ah. Lady Regina,” the girl laughs again when Regina looks surprised. “The Queen has described that look to me once or twice.”

 

“Or twenty,” a short girl with flour smeared against her cheek mumbles, and the dark girl waves her hand as if to dismiss the comment. 

 

“I’m sorry-“ Regina looses the glare, “-but who are you?”

 

“Tiana. Head cook.”

 

Regina’s eyebrows rise briefly, and she accepts the rough hand shake. 

 

Remembering the Queen’s orders and recognizing a friendly face, she bites her lips and considers her next words. 

 

“Do you know where I’m from, Tiana?” She sits straight and lets the girl examine her. “There’s this drink, if my father were here he’d be able to-“

 

But the girl is already shaking her head and moving to the endless rows of drawers and pulling ingredients out. How she knows what Regina’s talking about, Regina doesn't know, but she’s too grateful to question it. 

 

“ _Champurrado_ , am I right?” Regina nods dumbly. “I love making it.”

 

Regina smiles for the first time in weeks. 

 

*

“The wedding is fast approaching,” Rumplestiltskin singsongs in lieu of a greeting, smiling widely.

 

“I’m aware,” Regina sniffs and rolls up the sleeves of her riding outfit, intent on starting their fourth lesson. “In two weeks’ time.”

 

“Have you found your dress?” He asks seriously and sits by a fallen log. “Is it everything you dreamed of?” He taunts and bats his eyelashes. 

 

She is quickly growing tired of his personality. 

 

“I haven’t seen it,” she faces him with her hands on her hips, “and I’m sure you won’t either because you’re not invited to the wedding.” She knows she’s reverted back to a child but the imp has the annoying tendency to affect her this way. 

 

He pouts and crosses his legs, “I wasn’t planning on going anyways, dearie! I don’t like how the castle smells these days—full of chocolate and,” he sniffs dramatically, “ _desperation_.”

 

Gritting her teeth, she levels him with a glare. “Well, what’s the lesson for today?” She doesn’t want to be gone for too long, seeing as people in the castle are already noticing her long trips. Or maybe she’s being optimistic in saying anybody but Tiana’s noticed. 

 

“Mirrors,” the imp says, growing tired of their previous conversation and waves his hand. “Show me what you want to see.” 

 

“And how do I do that?” Regina asks, examining the long mirror in front of her. It’s framed with gold, and it’s wide enough that she can spread her arms out and still have room for trees to reflect back. 

 

“Think very very hard about what it is you wish for the most! And it shall appear.”

 

“A person?” She breathes and looks at the hopeful face reflected back to her.

 

The imp scoffs and waves his hand. “Magic can not bring back the dead, dearie. No matter how much you _wish_ it.”

 

She watches as her face falls and sets with determination. “That’s not true, magic-“

 

“Can’t bring back the dead!” He flaunts around and lands next to the mirror. “Now, what it is you want the most?” He points a scaly finger to the mirror and looks at her with a knowing gleam. 

 

“Freedom,” she breathes when she can’t keep in inside her any longer. “I want to be _free_.”

 

The mirror’s surface stays intact but Regina can feel the enchantment coming off it in waves. Rumplestiltskin is looking at her oddly, with his head tilted to the side and an almost regretful look on his face. It disappears a moment later and he’s back to pointing dramatically to the mirror. 

 

“This can give you that!”

 

“I thought it was supposed to _show_ me-“

 

He waves a hand and stands next to her—their images are reflected side by side. He’s much shorter than her, she realizes with an odd sort of pride. 

 

With another wave of his hand, the mirror is wrapped in pink paper, with a bow centered just right. 

 

“How am I supposed to _see_ if-“

 

He cuts her off again by rolling his eyes and raising his hand. “A gift, from yours truly.”

 

When she looks at him with baffled eyes, he giggles shrilly. 

 

“A wedding present—to use whenever you please. Consider it a bonus lesson.” He smiles with all his teeth, and Regina shakes her head in confusion. 

 

“And today’s lesson?”

 

“Postponed. I’ve been called away,” he skips to the mirror and waves a hand over it, making it disappear instantly. 

 

She looks around but it’s nowhere to be seen and with an exasperated sigh, she crosses her arms. “But where are you leaving to?”

 

He laughs in her face and shakes his head in amusement. “Now, you must learn how to use this gift. It’s enchanted—a _portal_. Give someone a hard push, and you’ll never see them again.” 

 

Regina frowns, thinking of the earlier admission she made. _Freedom_.

 

“Where will it send he— _them_?” She composes herself in the last second, but the imp just levels her with a knowing look. 

 

“A realm they can never leave, dearie! You’ll be rid of them for good. We can show you the mirror lesson another day,” he dismisses the lesson with a wave of his hand, raising his eyebrows expectantly as she mulls over what he’s just said. 

 

“And if I don’t want it? The mirror, I mean,” she turns to face him but there’s nothing but a fallen log and endless trees. He’s gone. 

 

*

 

“You know, Emma does the same thing every night.” Tiana speaks up from the doorway and Regina’ startled enough that the drink in her hand spills unto the table. “Whoops,” the cook giggles. 

 

“Who’s Emma?” Regina says as she picks the cup up and faces Tiana. 

 

“Who is- _oh, child_.” She presses a hand to her chest and shakes her head in amusement. “The Queen.”

 

Regina hums and mouths the name when the cook isn’t looking. 

 

_Em-ma_.

 

“And what does she do every night?” Regina asks despite herself. She needs information about the Queen if she plans on getting rid of her anyways. 

 

“Steals some of my cookin',” Tiana winks. Regina flushes red but doesn’t try to hide the bread rolls stacking up beside her cup. The cook steals one and sits in front of the oven, sleepy-eyed and still in her grey nightgown. 

 

Regina hums and picks up her own roll. 

 

“You know, I was surprised when you stayed.” Tiana serves herself a small portion of the drink Regina’s heated up. “After Emma left, I was sure, that you’d take the opportunity she presented.”

 

Regina watches as Tiana dips a roll in her cup and munches happily. She tries to maintain her anger within her but these days, it’s harder to distinguish her anger from her magic. 

 

“I don’t believe the Queen would have been foolish enough to regale you with her plan,” she sips from her drink and waits for Tiana to speak. 

 

“Emma isn’t very private. And, I’m her only friend. Other than you, of course,” the cook says cheerily, and Regina almost spits her drink out. Deciding to ignore the quip, she cleans her mouth and takes a deep breath. 

 

“Well, I’m rather private myself,” she says and hopes Tiana understands. She doesn’t want to stop talking with the cook, but if she relays details about the Queen with this much carelessness, she’s not sure she can continue confiding in her.

 

The cook nods and reaches over to pat her hand. “Of course.” Regina breathes a sigh of relief.

 

They sit in companioable silence until Regina’s eyelids start to droop and she’s stifling yawns behind her hand. Tiana notices and with a kind smile, starts cleaning the table. Regina moves to stand but with a sharp glare of the cook, remains sitting and watches as Tiana moves around the kitchen with ease. 

 

“Where do you go?” The cook interrupts Regina’s sleepy musings and she sits up to shake the sleep from her eyes.

 

“Pardon?” She croaks. 

 

“Where do you go? When you leave early in the morning,” Tiana asks softly, dumping the cups on a wooden box.

 

“Oh,” Regina startles and, for a split second, considers telling the cook everything—how she’s gotten to keep her magic flowing for more than a couple of seconds and how the imp’s mirror is sitting in her room, uncovered.  

 

“I like to ride,” she says instead, standing up and smoothing out her gown. Tiana hums and doesn’t call her back when Regina slips out the door.

 

*

 

Nobody alerts her of the Queen’s arrival. 

 

Instead, Regina walks in on her sitting in the long dining table in the middle of the night, a week before she’s supposed to arrive. 

 

She’s at the very end of the table with her hair blocking her downturned head. One hand is gripping the edge of the chair and another is shakily brought up to her pale forehead. 

 

When Regina comes in, walking one of her favorite shortcuts to the kitchens in search of a drink, she’s not quiet enough for the Queen to let her slip by unnoticed. 

 

“Regina!” The Queen raises her head immediately and Regina sees green eyes turned red and glassy. Her stomach plummets uncomfortably when she notices the surprise present in the Queen’s eyes at seeing her in the castle.

 

(She had thought she’d never see her again—foolish, naive Queen.)

 

“Your Majesty,” Regina walks slowly to the end of the table and when the Queen doesn’t rise like she usually does, her curiosity gets the better of her and she tentatively sits. “How was the journey?”

 

Regina’s surprised and more than a little shocked at the hollow laugh the Queen lets escape her thin lips. 

 

“Your mother-“ The blonde shakes her head and cuts herself off as if thinking her words over. “The villagers were pleased with my presence.” She says instead.

 

The doors to the kitchen open slowly and in walks Tiana, holding a tray and a tea set. “Now, I don’t usually like using this for your cocoa, but seeing as— _oh_.”

 

The Queen startles and takes a look at the tray in the cook's hands before looking over at a stiff Regina.

 

“Tiana,” the Queen begins excitingly. She sits up in her chair and leans towards the cook. “Bring another cup, please?” 

 

Regina wants to protest but the Queen’s comment is leaving her baffled over what Mother must have done for the blonde to come back earlier than intended. 

 

The cook sends Regina a questioning look, and Regina studiously ignores her until Tiana retreats through the back door. Regina soaks in how the Queen’s hair is loose and frizzy enough to frame her face softly. She hones in on a curious mark around her neck, blue and black.

 

_A bruise_ , Regina notes with surprise.

 

Her eyes quickly find the Queens. She’s surprised to see that green eyes are already looking at her and she opens her mouth to question just _how_ that mark happened when-

 

“Did you enjoy your stay?” The Queen asks and Regina doesn’t know if it’s her imagination, but she’s beginning to think that the blonde is actually asking in earnest. 

 

“Hardly,” Regina says because green eyes are looking at her with too much warmth. _What_ happened during the journey?

 

“Oh,” the blonde frowns and looks displeased. “And why’s that?” She leans in to listen attentively, and the movement parts her hair to further expose he marred neck. 

 

“There are no horses,” Regina answers truthfully, distracted by the long line circling the blonde’s pale neck. 

 

The doors open suddenly, and the Queen leans back in her chair, a pensive look on her face. 

 

Tiana comes in quickly, brandishing a small cup and with a wink directed to Regina, she places it on the table and serves the terrible concoction the blonde adores. 

 

“Enjoy,” she says cheerily before she retreats. 

 

“Have you tried this before? It’s delicious, I used to drink it every night before I went to sleep and Neal would-“ she stops abruptly and, despite burning with curiosity, Regina merely raises an eyebrow and takes a sip of the sweet drink. 

 

It must be the late hour, or the bruise around the Queen’s neck, or the anger in her eyes whenever Mother is brought up that makes Regina finish half of the awful cocoa and sit in silence with the Queen.

 

When she can’t take any more of the silence, she clears her throat to garner the Queen’s attention. Green eyes look up tiredly but expectantly, and Regina lifts her chin. 

 

“You mentioned my mother, Your Majesty.” Regina begins. “How was she?”

 

She feels as if they’re two parents discussing the troubling character of their child, and she shakes her head to get rid of these thoughts. Conversing with the queen had proved to be easier than talking with King Leopold, and it startles her how easily the queen pays attention to Regina. 

 

“She—well, she was fine.” The blonde takes a deep breath. “Except when I tried to kill her,” she lets out in one long breath. 

 

Regina blinks back her surprise, and her eyes lower to the Queen’s exposed neck. 

 

“You attempted to kill my mother.” Regina states simply.

 

“I know, I’m _sorry_. I am.” The Queen leans forward, and Regina leans back. “It’s just-“ an aggravated breath leaves the blonde’s lips, and she runs a hand through her hair. 

 

Regina waits until she tells her about the bruise around her throat—about the dim light behind green eyes—but the Queen stays silent and only offers and apologetic look to a stunned Regina.

 

Her mind spins, and she closes her eyes at the utter foolishness of the Queen. Only her, the honorable and idiotic Queen, would apologize for attempting to kill somebody as vicious as Mother. 

 

“I know nothing can excuse it,” the Queen looks down with an ashamed tilt of her head, misreading Regina’s shocked expression as one of anger. “But she’s alive now?”

 

She looks up with her damned green eyes, pleading pathetically, and Regina thinks of the ring tucked at the very back of all of her dresses—just the right shade of green to match her eyes.

 

“Yes, she is,” and as much as it pains her to admit it, she’s not particularly pleased that the Queen failed. “How did it happen?”

 

The Queen flinches and brings a hand to her heart, pressing down hard enough that her gown ripples around her hand. There’s a pained look on her face for a brief moment before licks her lips.

 

“She just- I didn’t mean-. She’s just- she’s a piece of work.”

 

“Most mothers are.” Regina is quick to defend even after all that’s happened.

 

“I wouldn’t know. And if all mothers are like yours, I don’t think I’d like to find out.” The Queen looks up from the cup and looks at her with piercing eyes. 

 

Regina’s tongue flattens at the roof of her mouth in an attempt not to say what she really wishes. It’s the first time she learns anything remotely personal about the Queen, and she wishes she could have sewn her ears shut so as to never have heard. Her curiosity is and will always her least enjoyable characteristic.

 

They sit in silence and the Queen searches her face before sighing and looking down at her empty cup. 

 

“What is it like?” Regina’s sharp voice startles the Queen and the blonde fumbles with the cup until she places it down on the table and stares expectantly at Regina. “Not having a mother.”

 

Green eyes tighten around the edges and Regina purses her lips.

 

“You have a lot of time on your hands when there’s nobody there to tell you what to do,” the Queen says, her eyes never leaving Regina’s. She talks softly, as if she knows what she’s about to say will offend Regina. 

 

And it does—it _stings_. 

 

“Too much time? There’s no such thing,” Regina shakes her head in disbelief and thinks of the short, blissful weeks she had away from Mother while the Queen was away. She would have done anything to have _more_. Her thoughts flicker back to the mirror in her room.

 

“Perhaps there’s no such thing as too much time when you're spending it with the right person.” The blonde’s eyes lower to her hands, then flicker up once to Regina’s frowning face and quickly flicker down to her lap again.

 

“Perhaps,” Regina acquiesces, swallowing roughly at the red tint spreading against the Queen’s cheeks. “Perhaps not.”

 

Her chair protests loudly as she scrapes it back and stands. She’s had enough company for the night, and she doesn't want to be in the queen’s presence any longer than necessary, not with the way her cheeks are coloring and her green eyes are dancing. 

 

“I bid you goodnight,” Regina says stiffly and doesn’t pause when the Queen’s head snaps up. 

 

“Regina,” the Queen licks her lips. “Maybe you could join me tomorrow night again?”

 

Regina lets herself stare at the pale face, open in earnest hope with her thin lips parted softly and her green eyes opened wide. 

 

“I think not,” she says, and the Queen’s eyes lower. “The drink was much too sweet for me.” Regina waves her hand lazily over the table, but the Queen continues staring down. 

 

“Of course,” the blonde murmurs and plays with the hem of her sleeve. “Good night.”

 

Regina leaves immediately and ignores the pressure that’s building right between her lungs. She refuses to call it regret. 

 

*

 

Mother is pacing in front of the vanity when she enters her room. 

 

“Change of plans, Dearest.” She stops facing as soon as Regina closes the door behind her and rushes to place wrinkled hands on her shoulder. “We need a new approach.”

 

Mother’s never this anxious or finicky about her plans, especially just after a week of contemplating and Regina wonders what exactly happened during their trip. 

 

“Hello to you, too Mother,” she grows bold and raises her chin in expectation. Mother ignores her. 

 

“It will be much harder to kill her now, but there are other ways, I’m sure. It will just take some _time_ …” Mother frowns and keeps pacing urgently. Regina sits by the bed and watches for a moment before she stands up—Mother’s energy is making her feel restless. 

 

“I take it the trip went well,” Regina goes to the vanity and begins playing with its many trinkets. For someone who doesn’t accessorize much, the Queen has plenty of jewelry. 

 

“Yes, for the most part.” Mother says distractedly, and Regina’s curiosity spikes again. 

 

“Why are you back so quickly then?” Regina questions as casually as she can. She opens a velvet box, and a glint of silver catches her eyes. 

 

“Oh, it was nothing. The Queen grew ill.” Mother stops pacing and sits by the bed, staring out the window with her back straight. 

 

Inside the box is a pendant, small and roughly carved out of cheap silver. It’s a circle, wobbly and curved awkwardly. In the middle, there is a swan facing east, its feathers carved just as clumsily as the circle surrounding it. 

 

Regina frowns down at it and turns it in her palm. Right underneath the swan’s neck, there’s a small shape that has Regina tracing it with her nail, trying to discern what it is. 

 

“She seemed fine when I talked to her just now,” she says distractedly, missing how Mother grows stiff, and her eyes turn dark. 

 

The indentation is a letter, Regina surmises with surprise, but instead of it being an E for the Queen’s name, it’s a ’N’ hastily carved. Did this belong to someone else, or was it a gift to the Queen? Regina shakes her head, aware that she is snooping, and puts the pendant back in the box. 

 

“Why must you always question me, child? If I say she grew ill, she grew ill.” Mother is still sitting by the bed, and Regina looks around for a place to sit. When she moves to the vanity, Mother clears her throat and Regina sighs as quietly as she can.

 

She smoothes out her gown and kneels right beside Mother’s knees, her knees complaining against the cold stone. “I’m sorry, Mother.” She places her head right on Mother’s lap, resting her cheek against the rough material of her gown.

 

The older woman hums and waits exactly two minutes (two torturous minutes where Regina doesn’t know what she’ll do next) to place her hand lovingly against Regina’s hair. 

 

“I missed you,” Regina adds for good measure, and Mother’s hums again, her fingers stroking just above her temple. 

 

“I’m sure you did, darling. But now we know much more about the Queen, and we start planning anew.” 

 

“And what are we going to do with this new information?” Against her will, Regina starts relaxing beneath Mother’s hand, and she closes her eyes as the older woman responds. 

 

“Kill her, of course.”

 

Regina’s eyes fly open, and Mother’s hand grows heavy where it’s caressing her hair. She knew Mother’s plans for the Queen had never been pure, but to kill the woman and leave Regina ruling the kingdom when she already doesn’t want to be Queen? 

 

“And leave me to-“

 

“To rule alone, yes. She’s unpredictable and the kingdom will never miss her, anyways.” Mother sighs contentedly, and Regina frowns against her lap. 

 

The kingdom has already lost the entire White family, losing another descendant would surely be a horrible idea at this point, especially since they just gained a Queen they adore. Even knowing this, Regina keeps her head limp under wrinkled hands and her mouth shut. 

 

Her eyes flicker to the closet where the mirror is hidden behind the Queen’s gowns, and her mind starts planning without her permission.

 

*

 

She’s forced to have breakfast with the entire council and the Queen the next morning. 

 

It’s especially annoying because she’s seated next to the blonde’s seat, which is at the head of the table. Mother sits beside her and pats her knee underneath the table.

 

_On your best behavior_ , she imagines Mother saying, and she straightens out her spine. 

 

The Queen comes in bleary-eyed and red-lipped. The entire table rises and one of the men (they’ve all blurred together at this point) helps her into her chair. 

 

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” is chorused by everybody and the Queen flushes a light shade of red before nodding and sitting down. Her eyes flicker to Regina’s, and her red lips quirk upwards. 

 

“And how was your slumber, Lady Regina?” The Queen smiles lazily, ignoring the food being placed in front of her and the dozen of men who have been awaiting her arrival. 

 

“Pleasant as always,” she responds when Mother pinches her on the side of her thigh. “And yours?” She adds because she can’t be curt and scathing to the blonde in front of everybody else. 

 

“Just fine,” the Queen says, her eyes dimming a tad. There’s a clatter when one of the servants, a pretty girl with dark hair, drops a spoon on the metal plate, making the Queen startle. 

 

The servant girl flushes red and instinctively flinches as the men around her raise their eyebrows and purse their lips. 

 

“Oh, it’s fine,” the blonde says and picks up the spoon, placing it where it belongs and smiling up at the girl. “Really.”

 

With an appreciative nod, the girl retreats to the back wall. Regina feels Mother glaring at the blonde and sighs lowly, looking down at the food in front of her. 

 

It’s customary for the Queen’s chaplain to bless the food or offer gratitude before eating, but the Queen has already picked up her utensils and is starting to eat heartily. The rest of the table observes in mild horror, and Mother stiffens considerably next to Regina. 

 

“Your Majesty,” one of the men says. Regina notices that he grew his hair out in patches and that his eyes were small and beady. “We must bless the food before we begin. You do remember?”

 

With a mouth full of food, the blonde blinks slowly as twin red circles appear high on her cheekbones. She nods sheepishly and motions with her hand for the chaplain sitting at the end of the table to proceed. Regina stops herself from rolling her eyes as the blonde swallows roughly and places a hand to her throat. 

 

“We offer this food so as to receive the sufficient energy…” The Queen frowns as the chaplain drones on and—with a quick tilt of her head in Regina’s direction—she shrugs her shoulders in question.

 

Regina ignores the Queen’s confusion and focuses on what is served. A slew of grains and fruits litters the table and when the chaplain finishes talking and the men sitting around them begin eating, the blonde hesitantly picks up her spoon and glances at Regina. 

 

Again, Regina ignores her, picks up her own spoon and dips it into the warm grain, swirling it for a few seconds. From the corner of her eye, she sees the Queen copying her movements. 

 

“Lady Regina,” the beady-eyed man speaks again when she doesn't start eating, “you mustn’t delay with your plate, darling. There are people who don’t have much to eat, you know, orphans who would do just about anything for the plate you are playing with.”

 

Regina’s fingers curl tightly over the handle of the spoon and she does her best to keep her eyes wide and part her mouth in fake embarrassment. Still, she must not look very convincing because Mother speaks up. 

 

“ _Oh_ , yes. We saw plenty of those dirty children in our journey. Did we not, Your Majesty? They chased us with their bare feet and soiled clothes.” Mother shakes her head and looks down at Regina’s plate with disdain.

 

The entire table is watching as she tries to regain what little composure she had brought to the table, and she is just beginning to imagine how it would feel to make the man in front of her disappear with her magic when the Queen speaks up. 

 

“It’s true,” the queen says, and Regina’s head jerks up to face the blonde. “We would have done _anything_ for this type of cereal.” She nods her full head of hair and eats a spoonful with flourish. 

 

Mother swallows uncomfortably beside her, and Regina stares at the blonde with disbelief. 

 

“Oh, didn’t I mention I was an orphan? Well,” she says, frowning and looking around the room, “I still am. I suspect I just moved houses.”

 

_Traded cages_ , Regina wants to correct but she’s still staring at the blonde with something akin to grudging respect for putting the men around her in their places. 

 

“One time,” the Queen continues, leaning in conspiratorially to the man who first spoke, “I stabbed a kid with a fork when he stole my bread.” She chuckles lowly when the man’s eyes grow wide, and he instinctively moves his plate further away from the blonde. 

 

“I believe much of the food made is thrown out, Your Majesty,” Regina starts when the table falls silent and Mother’s fist is tight atop the white tablecloth. “Would it please you if we relocated the food to the villages, where many orphans would benefit from it?” 

 

The Queen’s smile is slow in spreading against her cheeks, but when she nods and says “I think thats’s an excellent idea, my lady,” Regina can’t help but smile back just as slowly. 

 

She sees a muscle in Mother’s cheek twitch and Regina happily places her first spoonful in her mouth, humming as the cold cereal hits her tongue.

 

*

 

Rumplestiltskin cancels another lesson and Regina angrily makes her way to the library. If the imp won’t teach her, she’ll teach herself.

 

She doesn’t expect to find much, and she’s not exactly keen on reading about magic with Mother lurking behind every wall, but when she finds a book of magic creatures, she takes it from the shelf and sits in the long couch against the wall.. 

 

The Queen rose from breakfast and left for a meeting, trying to smile at an indifferent Regina just as she passed through the doors. Regina’s not interested in bonding with the blonde and she hopes that their short agreement during breakfast didn’t give the Queen the wrong impression. 

 

She’s halfway through the book and right in the middle of a passage about sea creatures when the doors to the library are opened and a flushed blonde walks in, her skirts hiked up and her shoulders drawn back. 

 

“Your mother sent me,” she says when Regina frowns and opens her mouth. “She wants us to bond, or whatever.” 

 

“I’m busy,” she sniffs and the blonde rolls her eyes. 

 

“I can see that,” she says mockingly and Regina tries ignoring her as she moves to the endless rows of bookshelves and runs a hand through the spines of the books. “What’s your favorite book?”

 

Regina scoffs and flips the page, burrowing deeper into the chair. The Queen looks her way and promptly disappears behind a bookshelf. She’s gone for a couple of minutes, and Regina breathes a sigh of relief, focusing on the words written elegantly in front of her. 

 

She’s jarred from her reading when she hears a loud thump deep into the bookshelves. She does her best to ignore it, but the pounding grows louder and louder. She can hear the blonde grumbling and cursing curious words; she closes her eyes and counts to ten. 

 

Regina resumes reading just when the pounding stops and the blonde exclaims, “Lady Regina! I found a _passage_!”

 

There’s an underlying childish tone to the blonde’s exclamation, and Regina shakes her head. The library stays silent for a full half hour (a half hour where Regina forces herself to keep seated and not follow the Queen) before the blonde comes back, looking dejected. 

 

“Never mind,” she says as she moves to stand next to the Regina, peering over shoulder. “It was nothing.” She sighs disappointingly and breathes down Regina’s neck. 

 

Regina tries angling herself away from the blonde, but the girl just moves along side of her. Before long, Regina’s unfocused eyes are just staring at the pages in annoyance. Her nostrils flare when the blonde perches herself high on the armchair and starts looking at the book over Regina’s shoulder.

 

“Are these mermaids?” She almost whispers, reaching out with a hand to touch the dark bodies pictured on the page. She traces their long bodies with one finger and stops directly above their bare chests, looking intently at the golden marks adorning their dark skin. 

 

“Yes,” Regina says, frowning. She can feel the queen’s dress brushing against her shoulder.

 

“Have you ever seen them?” The blonde asks in awe, her mouth parted slightly. Regina can feel her blonde hair tickling her elbow annoyingly so. 

 

“Once, when I was younger.” Green eyes snap to her, and something inside Regina urges her to continue. “I fell in the water-“ she doesn’t mention that Mother’s magic had left her weary and delirious and she had fainted right beside the harbor. Her finger reaches up to trace the scar splitting her lip and the blonde watches with rapt attention. 

 

“Oh,” green eyes go back to the page. “And these marks?” 

 

Regina sees a pale finger trace the golden marks swirling over the dark skin of the mermaids and sighs. “They’re magical creatures. They’re marks of _magic_.”

 

“Oh,” the blonde repeats and drops her hand with surprising speed. “They’re beautiful,” she whispers and stays leaning perched on the armrest.

 

Regina hums and continues reading, trying her hardest to ignore the Queen. She finishes the page—something about how mermaids are born—and turns to the next page. She half expects the blonde to stop her so she can finish reading first, but she’s suspiciously still as Regina keeps reading. 

 

It’s not until she turns another page that she notices pale eyebrows frowning in concentration and red lips moving slowly, sounding out the words. 

 

The Queen doesn’t know how to read. 

 

She doesn’t know what forces her to do it, but when the Queen latches on to the pictures with desperate need, Regina starts reading out loud. It startles the blonde a tad, if the small jostling of her shoulders is any indication, but Regina ignores her and continues reading as clearly as she can. 

 

The Queen is more alert now as she sits dangerously close to the edge; her eyes are darting around, trying to follow what Regina is reading. It’s surprisingly pleasant, seeing how her green eyes light up as she recognizes a word and Regina’s about to offer to teach her when-

 

“Your Majesty!” Baron Yones walks through the doors, and Regina snaps the book shut. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

 

The blonde sighs and stands, bruising the dust from there pale dress and glaring at the baron. “What is it?” 

 

The baron flinches at the bite in the Queen’s voice but proceeds to stammer out a reply, “Th- the council, it—we require you- your presence.”

 

She rolls her eyes and ghosts a hand over Regina’s shoulders. “Thank you,” she murmurs before she takes her leave and closes the door behind her with a thud. 

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_ , runs through Regina’s mind as she closes her eyes. 

 

She isn’t supposed to play _nice_ with the Queen. 

 

*

 

Regina’s called to the main hall two days later, after she’s studiously ignored the blonde as much as she can. Rumplestilskin has yet to appear again, and she’s growing restless in the cold castle. She’s taken to walking into her closet, where the mirror is hidden, tracing the paper and feeling the hum of the magic beneath it. 

 

She has yet to decide how to use it. 

 

“Baron Yones,” she greets as she walks in, her wide dress rustling against the floor. “I’m quite busy, please make this quick.”

 

She ignores the Queen’s frown and the way she’s trying to catch her eyes, opting to stare at the round face of the baron. 

 

The man sighs and points to the Queen. “She doesn’t know how to dance.”

 

“I’m not surprised,” Regina says curtly and the blonde’s frown deepens. “Why am I here?”

 

“It is customary for the married couple to dance at the ball, but seeing as the Queen doesn’t know how..” the baron tampers out and stares at Regina pleadingly. 

 

“We must teach her to dance,” he finishes when Regina stares at him coldly. 

 

“Uber gross,” the blonde pipes up, scrunching her face. 

 

“What our insipid Queen said, Baron Yones,” she nods to the blonde without looking at her.

 

“Insipid?” Red lips twist into a scowl. “What’s your problem?”

 

“Am I wrong?” Regina turns to look at the Queen and when the blonde opens her mouth, Regina raises her hand to count. “You can’t read, eat properly, or dance. Who knows what we will uncover next?”

 

Green eyes flare with anger and embarrassment. Regina lifts her chin and looks down at the blonde. “I’m an honorable person, Your Majesty. I’m simply stating the truth.”

 

Regina can see the Queen’s hand curling tighter and tighter by her side. She has the vague thought that it’s beginning to smell bitter—that familiar smell of tangerines and weed.

 

“Not everybody is born with a silver spoon in their mouth, Lady.” The blonde looks at her pointedly and crosses her arms over her chest. 

 

“So one simply isn’t handed the position of _Queen_?” Regina says in disbelief and matches the blonde’s stance. Her mind is reeling with the hypocrisy of the Queen’s statement, and she wants to demolish each and every argument she tries to bring against Regina.

 

“I worked hard to be where I am, unlike you, who had everything from the start!” Spit flies from the blonde’s mouth, and Regina cringes in disgust. 

 

“You were handed everything without trying! If being an orphan is the price to pay, then I don’t believe you suffered much,” Regina drawls and sees the exact moment the Queen turns vicious.

 

“At least I don’t have the emotional depth of a teaspoon. And _yes_ , I may not have my parents to blame for that, but you certainly do. Unless you became a heartless bitch all on your own.” 

 

Regina’s nostrils flare, and she can feel her magic swirling through her knuckles, ready to spark off. 

 

“Take that back,” she growls. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry—I’m just an honorable person stating the truth. Doing otherwise would go against the code,” the blonde mocks and moves closer to a glowering Regina. 

 

“Ladies,” Baron Yones says nervously and tries to move between them. Regina raises her hand and the man cowers back. 

 

“An honorable person would not force a marriage on a inno-“

 

“We were played! _Both_ of us! Do you really think I want to spend the rest of my life with someone as bitter as you?”

 

“The only reason I am _bitter_ is because of what I’ve lost in order for you to gain a wife!”

 

“ _I lost someone, too!_ Not that it _fucking_ matters because apparently you’re the only one suffering, the only one who doesn’t have a single _fucking_ say in this _fucking_ arrangement, in this _fucking_ castle!”

 

Regina’s eyes grow wide at the Queen’s sudden outburst, and she has enough wits about her to snap her mouth shut as the blonde presses a shaking hand over her mouth to stop screaming. 

 

Someone, _too—_ Regina’s heart had stopped at the Queen’s words, but her mind had quieted down as she kept screaming in Regina’s face. 

 

The blonde didn’t know about Daniel, about his preserved body or the plans she was hazily formulating. They stood in the room, both breathing hard and staring at each other with shaking hands. 

 

“I- I’m sorry to interrupt-“ The baron starts saying, but Regina brings her hand up again and the man takes another step back. 

 

“You have no _idea_ what I have lost.” Her lip curls over her teeth. The Queen’s eyes glisten with unshed tears, and Regina scoffs once before turning on her heel and walking out. 

 

“Teach her the dance, Baron, once she’s done with her little tantrum. But be warned, she will not be lifting me,” she says over her shoulder and as the doors close behind her, she hears the unmistakable sound of something shattering against the wall.

 

*

 

Ignoring the Queen for the duration of the week proves harder than Regina thought. She's hauled to dinner requests, document signings, anything and everything Mother can get her hands on.

 

Rumplestiltskin's absence is making her magic whirl up at the base of her spine and coil tightly with each day she doesn’t use it. She snaps at Mother more than once and suffers greatly for it, until she disappears into the library for some relief. 

 

Except that is where the Queen is hiding from the council, sitting crossed legged in her extravagant dresses, hunched over stacks of books. There’s a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows that has Regina’s stomach twisting with guilt. She storms out and steals into the gardens instead, walking endlessly until Mother finds her and hauls her back to more dinners and more strategy boards that the Queen frowns at and nods solemnly, as if she knows what she’s doing. 

 

It’s during one of these particularly stifling dinners that the Baron brings up the wedding again. 

 

“The day has been pushed back,” Mother announces when the Queen tries answering. 

 

Regina and the blonde stiffen at Mother’s tone, but the Queen continues eating as if Mother hadn’t unpredictably moved their plans around. 

 

“And why’s that?” The Queen asks around a mouthful of sliced meat. 

 

“The kingdom needs hope.” Almost immediately, the Queen rolls her eyes at Mother’s words.

 

“And therefore, they must _believe_ in this marriage, for the sake of their mourning minds,” Baron Yones fills in when the blonde looks at Mother quizzically. 

 

“O-kay?” The blonde frowns, putting her fork down. 

 

“What are you planning?” Regina interjects when the blonde looks like she’s about to make more pointless comments. 

 

“A staged meeting,” Baron Yones chirps, looking between Regina and the quickly irritated Queen.

 

“Your attitude towards each other has been…lacking, to say the best.” Mother shakes her head and clicks her tongue.

 

“Wonder why,” the blonde mumbles as she resumes eating. Regina quietly dreads what she’s sure is about to happen. 

 

“And so,” Baron Yones goes on as if she hadn’t spoken, “you’ll _meet_ Lady Regina on another trip around the villages.” 

 

The Queen’s lips part slightly and she blinks slowly at the baron until he looks down and fiddles with his food. 

 

“Nothing ties a kingdom quite like True Love. Wouldn’t you agree, Baron?” Mother says, but she looks straight at the Queen’s eyes. There’s a sort of stand-off that regina doesn’t understand, but she watches as the Queen’s nostrils flare before she nods her agreement. 

 

“Tomorrow, then!” The Baron clasps his hands. 

 

Regina bites the inside of her cheek when Mother pats her on her knee, pleased that she did not argue. 

 

And how could she, when her life was in her hands?

 

*

 

It’s awfully _romantic_. 

 

Regina leaves in a separate carriage, and Mother rides with her, fussing with her simple dress and curled hair. 

 

She feels detached from the entire thing, incredibly empty as she catches her reflection in the carriage window, so when Mother scurries her off to the very back of a village, she follows without complaining. 

 

And when she’s hiding behind carts of roses and apples, toying with the hem of her sleeves as if she’s not about to be carted off for the nineteenth time in her life, she doesn’t feel wrong.

 

She feels _empty_ , exactly how she feels the moment before she calls her magic forth, that split second where she doesn’t know if it’ll work this time. 

 

And when she catches glimpses of the Queen, smiling shyly and ignoring Mother’s instructions not to stand so close to the villagers, when she hesitantly picks a child up and hoists her on her hip before placing a kiss to her giggling cheek, Regina fills the stirring’s of _something—_ but there’s that emptiness that eclipses everything else. 

 

The blonde passes the cart of roses and Regina takes a deep breath, straightens out her dress and stumbles from behind, right into the Queen’s arms. 

 

There’s a collective gasp from the crowd that Regina takes as cue to bite her lip and apologize profusely, taking the blonde’s hand in hers and opening her eyes wide in sincerity. 

 

And then the Queen forgets her line.

 

“Uh-“ she looks star struck, with her mouth open in awe and her cheeks flushed as bright as Regina’s. 

 

Regina’s lip quirk as she smothers down a smug grin and digs one nail into the pale hand she’s cradling. 

 

“It is quite fine, Lady-“ the Queen frowns and tilts her head in question. 

 

“Regina,” she breathes, ducking her head and curtsying slowly. 

 

“Regina,” the blonde repeats in wonderment. “Would it be too much to ask, my lady, if you escorted me around the village?”

 

She throws the Queen a smile wide enough to make her flush all the way down to her neck and takes the offered arm as her own. “It would be my pleasure,” she says brightly, pressing her entire side to the Queens. 

 

As practiced, the Queen takes an apple from the cart and the crowd stirs. Regina sees more than a dozen faces looking on in amazement and she catches Mother’s approving nod from the thick crowd. 

 

Regina guides the Queen and stays by her side the entire time they’re at the village, both of their cheeks as red as the apple behind the blonde’s back.  


 

Not as practiced, the Queen trips every single time Regina smiles at her.

 

*

 

Rumplestiltskin reappears the night before her wedding. 

 

She’s opening the door to the wardrobe (to have something to do in this castle where she does _nothing_ ) when it’s his face that pops from behind the doors instead of her night gown. 

 

“Hello, dearie!” He says shrilly, and Regina glares at him, crossing her arms in defiance as she lets him step through. 

 

“Well?” He says when she doesn’t speak. “Have you used my gift?” 

 

She hadn’t forgotten about the mirror, not exactly. She just hadn’t payed much attention to it once she’d decided what to do with it, and that was nothing at all. She’d let the mirror stay at the very back and continue her lessons with or without the imp. 

 

“No,” she says coolly, “I haven’t had the need for it.”

 

It’s not entirely true. She has about three people she’d like to use it on, but she’s not about to let him know how tempting the idea has been. 

 

He pouts dramatically and waves his hand. The mirror appears without the wrapping paper and she sees her reflection against the surface. 

 

“And why not? All you need is a,” he stares at her with wide eyes for a second too long, “ _push_.”

 

She shivers, a course of power running through her magic at his words. 

 

“No,” she swallows painfully. “That’s what _she’d_ do.”

 

“Nope,” he pops his lips obnoxiously, “she’d most likely kill. This is trademark for you, though!”

 

She feels as if he’s lying to her somehow, like she’ll do much much worse in the future, so she turns away from his scaly face and breathes in deeply. She won’t become like Mother, no matter how tempting the magic’s been these past few weeks. 

 

She just needs an inch of power, of stability, and this need, this _obsession_ with the taste of magic against her palms, against her fingertips, will surely disappear.

 

She shakes her head and he’s suddenly there, where she can count his rotten teeth and smell the magic off him. “It’s a pity—I truly thought you were powerful enough to save yourself.”

 

He reaches out to caress her cheeks and she flinches back. “I don’t know _how_ -“

 

“Of course you do!” He hisses and takes his hand away from her cheek to point at the mirror. “I hope I won’t have to stay away for long this time.”

 

It feels like a warning, but before she can get het wits about her and gather up her courage to say something else to him, he disappears. 

 

*

 

“Regina,” comes from outside her bedchamber, in the form of a hiss. “Close your eyes.”

 

She rolls her eyes, and watches in amusement as the magic coming off the mirror intensifies. She was glancing at her wedding dress, wide and white and entirely, ridiculously horrid, when the Queen’s voice had interrupted. 

 

The door is cracked open an inch and the Queen slips through it with her hands covering her eyes. 

 

“Are your eyes closed?” She whispers again and Regina has a split second where she actually entertains humoring the blonde. 

 

“No,” she says instead and turns away from the mirror to take in the blonde. 

 

She’s dressed in white as well, but instead of wide, her dress is _long_. It trails behind her and hugs her hips in a way that shouldn’t be allowed for others to see. Regina’s throat goes dry. 

 

Her lips are as red as ever and her hair is piled high above her head, with a few tendrils escaping and rolling off her back elegantly. Not for the first time, Regina thinks she fits the picture of a virgin queen. 

 

“Regina!” She complains, trying in vain to cover her body with her free hand. “You’re not supposed to see!”

 

“Then you shouldn’t have come,” Regina retorts. 

 

“I- well, I wanted to see you. You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, hands still clasped around her eyes. 

 

“Oh, you look ridiculous, dear. Lower your hand.” She ignores the blonde’s comment with a huff. 

 

“No! It’s tradition,” she says, pouting slightly. 

 

“Maybe in another realm.” When the Queen stays silent, Regina speaks up again. “What can I help you with, Your Majesty?”

 

“Emma,” she blurts out. Regina’s eyebrows rise. “Call me- call me Emma?”

 

Regina merely hums and stares at the pattern on the Queen’s wedding gown. 

 

“I just wanted to see- to talk to you before the wedding.” She half whispers. “And to tell you that you don’t have to be scared.”

 

“I am not scared,” it sounds convincing to her own ears and Regina smiles triumphantly at the lie. 

 

“Oh. Well, I mean-“

 

“Darling are you quite done staring-“ Mother comes in without knocking. “Your Majesty.”

 

“Hi,” she waves with her free hand, the other still covering her eyes ridiculously. “I’m just gonna-“

  


The queen points to the door and blindly searches for the exit, slams against the doorframe, and slips out the door with an embarrassing groan. 

 

Mother sighs and purses her lips. “Hard to believe she’s Queen, is it not?” She shakes her head and comes to Regina’s side, smoothing out stray hairs from her forehead. 

 

“Indeed,” Regina says, her nerves returning after the Queen’s departure. 

 

“Come here,” Mother wraps an arm around her waist and guides them both in front of the mirror, a move suspiciously like Rumplestiltskin's. “You look lovely.”

 

Regina stares at her reflection and focuses on the hum of the magic coming off the mirror. Just a push, she thinks, and she can be _free_. 

 

“I know this isn’t what you wanted dear, but it’s for the best. Trust me.” Mother is staring at her own reflection when she says this. “That stable boy would have ne-“

 

Regina wrenches free from Mother’s loose grasp and stumbles back, bile rising up her throat. 

 

“Do not talk of him,” she croaks out, even as she knows Mother is looking at her disapprovingly. 

 

“Oh, it’s been years Regina. This is your life now!” Mother dismisses her entire feelings with a wave of her hand and a shake of her head. 

 

“I don’t want this life, Mother!” Regina cries, barely keeping herself from crying. The wedding is too close, her dress is too tight, Mother is looking at her-

 

“I have chosen this life for you, and you _will_ marry the Queen!” Mother doesn’t move from in front of the mirror and she can imagine Rumple, looking at her with his grey eyes and scaly skin. “You will do as I say!”

 

“Or _what_ mother? You’ll try killing me aga-“

 

Mother’s hand comes flying down to her cheek and Regina reacts out of instinct—she _pushes_. 

 

And when Mother grips the mirror’s edge and screams bloody murder, Regina pushes again and again until all she can see is the cracked mirror in front of her. 

 

She’s hears Baron Yones calling her to the altar.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!


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